By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
I lowered my book a fraction and surreptitiously watched Mildred as she sat at her computer; her eyes squinted, and her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth in earnest concentration. She flicked away a wisp of her auburn curls that kept falling over her eyes before leaning closer to the screen. A hiss escaped as she sucked in a deep breath.
‘Oh, Lordy,’ she declared, throwing her hands in the air as if to surrender to the computer. ‘I give up! I’ll have t’ get Ann t’ help me again. I can’t make head nor tails of this thing.’
It was five years ago that Mildred ‘came back from the dead’ and resumed her life with us. Ann and Michael now called her Aunty, even though they knew right away it was their nana who had walked in through the front door after we returned from her ‘funeral’. They both ran over and threw their arms about her waist and laughed, their pleasure at seeing her obvious. There had been no questions as to how, and no doubt in their young minds as to who she was.
When Ann told us later that Mildred had visited them just after she’d died, and that she’d told them she would soon be back with them, I was gobsmacked! How had they managed to keep the secret from me?
It all began to make sense now that I had learned why the children hadn’t been upset. We’d told them, as gently as we could, that their beloved nana had gone to Heaven. They'd known all along they would see her again!
Poor James. He was the one who’d had the biggest shock. I was used to strange things happening, as well as seeing ghosts. I’d even helped people who were alive before I was born! James only knew of these things through me describing my trips into the past, so to actually see Mildred walk back from her own grave, alive and looking so much younger, had totally thrown him.
We’d sat talking for hours that night after the children had been put to bed, trying to find out how it was possible. ‘I dunno for sure, but somehow I wasn’t at all surprised,’ Mildred had told us with her brows knitted together as she thought about it. ‘It’s as if I knew it were goin’ to happen, and when I found meself standin’ behind you in the cemetery, it felt right … but I didn’t know how I knew … Oh, Lordy, that don’t make no sense at all. All I do know is, I died, yet here I am, and I’m still me! A bit younger, though,’ she added with a smile.
‘And you look good, too. You said we would be working together now … that I wouldn’t be on my own if I’m called back to the past again. What did you mean?’
Mildred leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees, and cupped her chin in her hands. ‘I did, didn’t I?’ She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘I should remember, but it’s all going hazy now.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I told her. ‘We have you back with us, and I’m just thanking God for that’
I’d almost been right when I’d guessed her age to be around thirty. She told us she was twenty-eight, two years younger than me. That I found to be really weird. After being years younger than her, to suddenly become the elder, well, it took some getting used to.
Now, five years later, she decided she’d like her own computer after seeing the one that James had bought us all. This, from the woman who at one time, in her previous life, wouldn’t entertain having a dishwasher because she considered them useless contraptions!
‘Come and have a cup of tea,’ I suggested. ‘Ann will be back from her piano lesson in half an hour, so you can have a chat then.’ I smiled as she threw her head back in frustration. It was no good her asking for my help as I was even worse. I hadn’t a clue how to use a computer, and my knowledge was limited to turning it on. ‘I’ve an idea, though. How about we both enrol for a course on computing at the local college. I’m sure they do further education classes for adults.’
Mildred looked across at me and beamed. She stood up, after she’d turned the computer off, and tucked her chair up to the table. ‘I like that idea. It’s strange, but I don’t even remember goin’ t’ school.’
‘I recall you mentioning your school-friend once after Ann had been upset one day. So, you must have gone to school at some point.’
‘Mmm, it’s possible, I’m just not remembering that life … yet I remember my whole life with you.’ She looked at me, then smiled and shrugged. ‘So long as your friends, the ‘powers that be’, let me keep those memories, who cares about the rest?’
‘The powers that be’. Goodness, that goes back a while now. It’s been five years since I’ve done any time travelling, so I presume I’m not needed any more.’
We’d finished our tea and had cleared away our cups just as Ann came through the kitchen door. ‘I’m starving!’ she said, plonking her satchel on the kitchen table. ‘Can I have a cake?’ Not waiting for an answer, she went straight over to the tin that held Mildred’s delicious home-made buns.
‘You’ll not eat your dinner,’ I told her, taking the tin lid from her and replacing it.
‘Aw, come on, pleeease, Mum,’ she whined. ‘I’ll eat my dinner as well, promise!’ She looked from me to Mildred, hoping to get the thumbs up. ‘I missed lunch at school today,’ she wheedled, ‘because I wanted to use the music room to practice that piece before my lesson.’
I frowned. She knew I didn’t like her missing meals. It wasn’t good for a growing ten-year-old girl, and I told her so, too. I couldn’t fault her for her dedication. Music was her passion and she would happily practice every evening after dinner for an hour … longer if we let her. We certainly enjoyed listening to her because it seemed to come so naturally.
I was about to say something else, when Michael came dashing in. His school tie lop-sided, his blazer tied around his waist like a bit of old rag, and his hair looking like he’d been dragged through our blackberry bush. Typical eight-year-old! ‘Oow, cakes! Yes, please. I’ll have one, too.’ Ann looked at me as she sidled up to Michael to create a united front.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! Just one, then. I don’t know why I always give into you both.’ I took the lid back off the tin and, keeping hold of it, watched as they both took a cake each. ‘If you don’t eat your dinners, there will be no pudding—and I mean it!’ I scowled at them, and that only made them grin more.
‘When you’ve finished, you can get changed—and make sure you hang that blazer up, young man! Ann, I think your aunty wants a word with you when you come down.’
Mildred grinned after they’d both left the room to put their things away. ‘Well, that told ‘em!’
James came home early, which was a pleasant change. The hospital had new management, and it had meant a lot more work for all the medical staff. The extra stress it put on James had worried me. I hated seeing the shadows around his eyes. Today, though, he looked relaxed as he sauntered into the sitting room after showering and changing into his t-shirt and jeans. He still managed to make my tummy flutter when he smiled at me.
‘Dinner won’t be for a while,’ I told him, reaching up to drop a peck on his cheek. ‘Do you want anything?’
‘No, just this…’ He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me close. The tingling sensation I get when his lips touch mine, always leaves me breathless.
‘Well, if that’s all you want,’ I gasped. ‘There’s plenty more going free,’ I said, lifting my face for more of the same. He chuckled, and then our lips met.
‘Not again!’ Ann’s groan broke us apart, both grinning like a couple of kids caught in the act.
Later, after our meal, James took a ball into the garden for a kick around with Michael while Ann went to practice her newest piece of sheet music. Mildred and I sat back on the garden bench and listened to the music as it drifted out the open sitting room window.
‘She’s a natural,’ Mildred said dreamily. ‘I could listen to her playin’ all day.’
‘Mmm, me too….’
‘Here, help me with this, will you?’
Startled, I turned around and found myself facing a young woman, her hands thrusting a pole with a banner attached towards me.
‘Sorry, but who are you?’ I shook my head, trying to make sense of the scene that had replaced the tranquil ambiance Mildred and I had enjoyed while sitting in our cottage garden in 1996.
‘I said, will you help me with this while I tie my boot laces up.' And with that, she pushed the pole into my hands.
‘Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica! Where are we?’ Mildred asked when she moved over to stand next to me.
At the same time the woman knelt down, my breath caught violently at the back of my throat as my eyes tried desperately to understand what they were seeing.
Mildred’s hand tightened on my arm as we found ourselves confronted with a road heaving with women dressed in long skirts. Stranger still, they all were waving banners demanding the right for women to vote….
Continued....
| Author Notes |
With the centenary of women getting the vote having just passed, I thought it only fair that Veronica and Mildred should get in on the action! :)
Thank you so much for reading my first part of my new book. This is written in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of Chap 1
‘Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica! Where are we?’ Mildred asked when she moved over to stand next to me.
At the same time the woman knelt down, my breath caught violently at the back of my throat as my mind tried desperately to understand what my eyes were seeing.
Mildred’s hand tightened on my arm as we found ourselves confronted with a road heaving with women dressed in long skirts. Stranger still, they all were waving banners demanding the right for women to vote….
Chapter 2
I dragged my eyes away from the chaotic scene in front of me and looked at Mildred’s befuddled expression. ‘Welcome to time travelling, Mildred,’ I shouted over the hullabaloo from the hundreds of chanting women. ‘I think this must be London at the turn of the twentieth century, sometime before WW1. If I remember my history correctly, they stopped their marches during the war and were given the right to vote immediately after. So, Mildred, these ladies are the suffragettes!’
Mildred’s eyes widened. ‘Really!’ Her arms folded around her waist as she rocked to and fro. ‘Oh, my poor head and stomach’s in a right tizwoz! Is this time travelling malarkey always like this?’
I tapped her hand and pointed to the woman kneeling in front of us as she tied her boot laces, then put my finger to my lips. I’d forgotten her in my initial bewilderment. I leaned my head nearer to Mildred. ‘You’ll get used to it. What’s got me flummoxed is she can see us. I wonder if everyone else can.’ Is this another change? It’s always different when I travel back in time!
The woman finished tying her laces, then stood up and smiled. ‘Hello there. I’m Gladys. Nice to meet you,’ she said, reaching out her hand to shake mine and Mildred’s before taking the pole from me.
She was about my age, I decided, but her hair was already showing signs of grey. Her dark brown eyes showed a strength and steely determination, yet there was also a vulnerability about her. A strange mixture. She has a story. I wonder if I’ll learn what it is.
‘It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Veronica, and this is my friend, Mildred.’
Gladys looked across at the crowd of women holding up banners and flags. ‘It’s a good turn-out, isn’t it?’ she hollered over the chanting—which was becoming stronger and more passionate by the second. ‘Thank goodness the weather held.’ With that, she looked up at the grey clouds and grimaced. ‘I just hope it holds awhile longer. Right then, let’s go and make a nuisance of ourselves.’
I grabbed Mildred’s hand as Gladys propelled us along with the crowd. ‘Where are we going?’ I shouted above the noise.
She turned to look at me and frowned. ‘Downing Street, of course! Where else? We’ve got to let those politicians know we’re serious about getting the vote. They seem to believe that if they ignore our petitions, and keep running out of time to discuss our issues in Parliament, we’ll eventually give up and fade away. It’s an awful cheek the way they treat us. To hear them talk, we’re nothing but bloody baby factories without a brain between us. Well, the tide is turning, and we are going to show them. Enough is enough.’
As we watched her march off with her banner raised, Mildred and I looked at each other and shrugged. ‘Well, I don’t know what we’re doing here, but I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later. Let’s just go along with them for now. It must have something to do with the suffragettes, or we wouldn’t have been put amongst them.’ I looked at the clothes Mildred was wearing. ‘Love the costume,’ I told her with a broad smile.
Mildred looked down at her clothes, before turning her attention to mine. ‘Mmm, mine are quite swanky, shame about yours!’ She chuckled, her eyes dancing with amusement.
I playfully thumped her arm. ‘Thanks!’
‘Hey, you two, come on, keep up!’ Gladys’s loud voice had us pushing forward again. ‘We might meet trouble once we get to Downing Street. The police don’t like us going there since the Prime Minister took up residence a few weeks ago,’ she added with a grin.
That's useful. I'll have to check that date when we go back to our own time. ‘Will they arrest us?’ I asked, my voice betraying my sudden panic.
‘No, we’re not exactly criminals. Besides, quite a few of us have husbands in Parliament and other prominent careers. So, it would be very awkward if it was reported one of their wives had been thrown in jail. Could you imagine the scandal?’ Her lilting giggle made Mildred and me laugh.
She was right, the police didn’t like it when we descended upon them. The hundreds of women, to the ten or so police, was not conducive to a peaceful rally. The women in the front line pushed the police out of the way before storming up to Number Ten and banging on the door. There was no answer, of course. They'd probably been warned to stay inside when they knew we were on the way.
Within minutes, the number of police had swollen, and we were now the ones under pressure. Regardless of what Gladys had told us, we could see that some women had been carried, kicking and screaming, into the police vans. Before we could stop her, Gladys rushed off, determined to help them. All she achieved was to get herself grabbed by two hefty policemen and dragged off to join those she’d just tried to rescue.
Mildred and I could do nothing but stand by and watch. Just as they were lifting Gladys into the van, a police sergeant, who had pushed his way through the angry women, spoke to the two officers holding her. A moment later, she was released. Surprised at this turnaround, Mildred and I forced our way over to her.
‘What happened? I thought he was going to put you in the van,’ I said, taking hold of her arm.
‘I’m not sure, but I think the sergeant recognised me. If he did….’ Her voice was drowned by a sudden frenzy of cheering.
‘It’s Lucy Mayer, our leader,’ Gladys shouted out. ‘She organised this rally and has a petition to submit to the Prime Minister. Oh, look!’ We watched as Lucy handed the large package to one of the police officers who was standing outside the door of Number Ten, and when he knocked and called through the door, it opened sufficiently for him to pass it to an official on the other side.
Gladys stood with her hands on her hips, a defiant expression on her face. ‘At least we’ve accomplished something. Whether it will do any good this time, remains to be seen.'
The handing over of the petition appeared to bring the march to an end. We watched as the women gradually dispersed, and the black prison vans drove off with their captives. Gladys tapped me on the shoulder. ‘Would you two like a cup of tea?’ she asked. ‘My home isn’t too far from here.’
I looked at Mildred and watched as she nodded. ‘Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you. What will happen to those women who have been taken away?’
If Gladys felt concerned, she certainly didn’t show it. ‘They will be released in an hour or so. They daren’t keep them any longer. They’re all respectable ladies from respectable homes. I have to admire them,’ she told us. ‘Many come from all over England to join in our marches. We all know large numbers count if you want to succeed.’
After about fifteen minutes of brisk walking, she turned into a quiet side street with young saplings planted every few feet along the edge of the road, and stopped at the front door of an impressive three-story house. ‘Here we are,’ she said with an understandable degree of pride.
The door opened into a dimly-lit, wide corridor, and I couldn’t help thinking how much better it would look if the décor was lighter than the dark, heavily patterned wallpaper that had been chosen. Many portraits of naval officers lined the way up the curved staircase between the gas wall lamps.
We continued along the corridor and turned into what I guessed to be the reception room. Tall sash-windows with heavy velvet drapes drawn open to let in quite a bit of light created a nice airy feel. Each wall was adorned with more gas lamps and pictures. Two sofas and five easy chairs were placed around a low coffee table, all facing the large, unlit fireplace.
Gladys smiled as she turned and pulled a cord by the door. ‘Sit down and take the weight off your feet.’
A few seconds later, as if she had been waiting on the other side of the door, a young maid came in and gave a little curtsy. The way she stood there wringing her hands, put me on alert. When she spotted the banner, her large brown eyes widened and flicked from that to her mistress and back again, I couldn't help but be alarmed. Something was wrong.
‘I … his Lordship is home,’ she whispered, turning pointedly to look at the banner. ‘I think he’s in his study.’
Gladys’s face paled, but she kept calm, even though Mildred and I could see this was unexpected, and possibly, unwelcome news. ‘Thank you, Mary. But for now, we have guests, so please bring us a tray of tea and cook's lovely cakes.’
I couldn’t help but notice the fear in Mary’s eyes. She took another step closer to Gladys and whispered what sounded like, ‘he’s in a terrible temper.’ Then, with another little bob and a soft, ‘Yes ma’am,’ she left the room….
Continued ....
| Author Notes |
Thank you for reading my story. This is written in UK English, so there might be some minor differences in the spelling. If you find any mistakes, I am always over the moon to have them pointed out. Thank you! :)
The picture is the background for books 1 and 2 in the trilogy. The lettering goes on once I can think of a title and the bottom of the picture is changed to show the era. If you have any thoughts on a title, I would love to hear them. Book 1: This Time - That Time (1940 - 1986) Book 2: Beyond That Time (1846 and 1991) Book 3: This book is set in (1905 jumping to 1916 and 1996.) I'd like a title that will end with 'That Time' the same as the other two. I thought of: Between This Time & That Time. Is it too long? Does it sound right? |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys, a member of the Suffragettes.
Chapter Three
Tommy
Very casually, Gladys retrieved the banner and tucked it away behind the long curtains. The atmosphere had changed from merry to one of unease. I glanced surreptitiously at Mildred as she discretely raised an eyebrow.
‘You have a beautiful home,’ I said, trying to lighten the mood as I allowed my eyes to wander around the room. ‘Have you lived here long?’
‘My husband’s family have lived here for generations. All naval, as you might have guessed from the many portraits,’ she told us with a hint of contempt. ‘All gentlemen of high regard….’ She stopped and faced the door as it swung open just at that moment.
‘Ah, Charles, you’re home again. Did you have a good trip?’ Gladys lifted her face to look him in the eyes, and he, being a good eight inches taller, looked down at her with a frosty expression.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’ he asked, turning his head in Mildred’s and my direction with a similar icy stare. I decided then and there that I didn’t like this man. His rude, arrogant tone, and the way he looked at his wife, and us, made me feel decidedly uncomfortable.
‘Oh, of course! Charles, may I introduce you to my friends, Veronica and Mildred. I have invited them to have afternoon tea with me.’ She turned to face us. ‘This is my husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock. Perhaps you would like to join us, Charles?’
He ignored the question, and turned his attention back to us. ‘And where was it you met my wife?’ he asked, looking directly at Mildred.
Mildred stared back, not in the least intimidated.
Another change!
‘I can’t tell you exactly when we met, but I believe we were having afternoon tea at the time. Was it at the Ritz? Oh, no. I think I remember. It was at that lovely little restaurant near Hyde Park. Now, what was the name of it? Can you remember, Veronica?’ She turned away from Charles to face me. The look in her eyes almost cracked me up.
‘No, but I think you’re wrong there. You were right first time, Mildred. I am certain we met at the Ritz.’
Charles never took his eyes off Mildred. ‘I see. And would that be before or after a suffragette meeting?’
I could see there was something very wrong here. The feisty woman who had taken us on the march to Downing Street now looked petrified, and the colour seemed to drain from her face.
‘I don’t quite know what you are referring to, but one thing I do know is that we were not attending any meeting, anywhere,’ I added in the hope I might convince him of his wife’s innocence.
‘Forgive me if I don’t believe you,’ he snapped back at me, and without another word, or hint of what was about to happen, his hand came up and slapped his wife hard across the face. He struck her with such force, her head smashed into the marble fireplace with a sickening thud, and Mildred and I watched, horrified, as she slumped to the ground, blood pouring from the gash in the side of her head.
As Mildred and I rushed over to help her, I grabbed the embroidered cloth from the back of the armchair to press it against the cut in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Her skin had a greyish tint to it, and felt clammy to the touch. I glared angrily at her husband, and was about to say something when the door opened again and a young lad walked in. His face paled as he took in the scene.
‘Mother!’ Before he could rush to her side, his father grabbed him with brute force by the arm.
‘What are you doing home?’ he barked angrily. ‘Skipping classes, ay? Do you think I spend a fortune sending you to the best school around just so you can come home whenever you like? Huh? You know what you are, don’t you? No? Well let me enlighten you—you’re a lazy; good-for-nothing, little mummy’s boy!’
He waved his other arm at the portraits of high-ranking officers haughtily staring down at us. ‘You’re a disgrace to their memory, a disgrace to this family! Do you hear me?’
His eyes were blazing like someone possessed. This man was insane! The fear I felt for the boy now, heightened when his father brought his hand up to hit him. The boy cringed and tried to duck out of the way. Before I could get up to help him, Mildred rushed towards him and grabbed his father’s hand as it came down. How she had the strength to stop him, I had no idea. But he couldn't shake her off.
‘Well, aren’t yeh the brave one hittin’ defenceless women and children!’ she told him. Her voice was calm, but deadly cold; I stared at her in amazement. I was seeing a completely different Mildred to the one I knew in her previous life. The shy lady that had captured my heart, as well as my family’s, had turned into a superhero! My respect and admiration for this amazing woman was endless.
Whether it was because he was not used to being confronted like this, or he saw something in Mildred’s eyes that warned him off, I’ll never know. But, after a moment, he dropped his other hand from his son’s arm and yanked his hand away from Mildred’s. His eyes filled with contempt as he glanced over at his wife, still crumpled on the floor with her head on my lap.
‘Since you’re home, you can clean your mother up,’ he growled. ‘And then, Sir, I want to see you in my study!’
His face contorted with rage as he turned his attention back to Mildred and me. ‘I blame your lot for this! You and your ridiculous ideas—it’s about time we put you all back in your place.’ With that he stormed out and slammed the door behind him.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry. I was boiling inside. The fiery, red hand print he’d left on Gladys’s face had me seething! ‘I’d love to give him a bit of his own medicine and punch his face in!’
The minute his father left the room, the lad scurried across to Gladys. ‘Mother!’ He knelt by her side, lifting her hand and holding it close. ‘Open your eyes … please, Mother!’
Mildred came to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Your mother will be fine, Love. Don’t yeh go fretin’ now.’ Her eyes met mine questioningly, but I could only give a slight shrug because I didn’t know if Gladys’s wound was life threatening.
‘Can you open your eyes please, Gladys?’ I asked in a voice louder than I’d intended. ‘Your son’s here … come on now.’
A groan told us she was coming around. ‘Tommy?’
‘I’m here, Mother.’
There was a relieved sob in his voice when he heard his mother speak, but it was soon replaced with anger. ‘I hate him!' he shouted defiantly. I wish he was dead!’
Continued....
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembrock – suffragette and mother to
Tommy - 16-year-old-son.
Vice Admiral Pembrock of the Royal Navy – Gladys’s husband
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading my story. This is written in UK English, hence some different spellings. If you should find any errors, (of which I'm sure you will,) please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you! :) x |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
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Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys, is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit. Is it for Gladys and her son that Veronica and Mildred have been taken back to the early 20th century? Only time will tell.
End of Chapter 3
‘Can you open your eyes please, Gladys?’ I asked in a voice louder than I’d intended. ‘Your son’s here … come on now.’
A groan told us she was coming around. ‘Tommy?’
‘I’m here, Mother.’ There was a relieved sob in his voice when he heard his mother speak, but it was soon replaced with anger.
‘I hate him!' he shouted defiantly. 'I wish he was dead!’
Chapter 4
Gladys had opened her eyes and reached her hand up to stroke her son’s angry face. A feeble smile touched her lips, but it soon turned into a grimace as she tried to lift herself up. ‘Oh, My head!’ Moving her hand away from Tommy, she lifted it to where I held the makeshift bandage pressed against the cut. ‘What happened to me?’
‘He hit you—again!’ Tommy jumped in. His resentment towards his father appeared to ooze from every fibre of his being.
With our help, and an occasional groan as she held her hand to her head, Gladys managed to pull herself up into a sitting position. ‘Tommy? … What are you doing home?’ Her voice was groggy, which was to be expected. ‘Shouldn’t you still be in college?’ A frown cut across her forehead as she leaned back against my shoulder.
‘College closed early. I don’t know why, just that it had something to do with one of the professors … Your head’s still bleeding, Mother. What did he hit you with this time?’
‘He didn’t … I think I fell against the fireplace. I’m okay, truly. Don’t you go worrying about me.’ Gladys did sound somewhat stronger now, and I was relieved to see the colour coming back into her face.
Tommy wouldn’t let his mother fob him off. ‘You didn’t get that hand-mark on your cheek from the fireplace,’ he continued with his chin jutted out in defiance.
‘What was it all about?’ I asked before Gladys could respond to Tommy’s remark. I’d never seen anything like that before—and my voice betrayed my anger at the abuse she’d suffered. ‘Does he hit you often?’
Gladys’s hand went to her face, and with delicate movements, she used the tips of her fingers to touch the area where her husband had struck her. She looked so embarrassed as she lowered her eyes … as if it were all her fault!
But, why? I couldn’t help but think of my gentle James. He would never dream of hitting me. And if he had, our marriage would've ended up in the divorce courts faster than he could blink!
Tommy turned and glared at the door before speaking. ‘Did he ask Mother if she went on today’s protest march?’
‘No. He wanted to know where and when we met her. He didn’t believe what we told him, though.’
‘He wouldn’t.’ His eyes travelled back to Gladys. ‘He knew you’d gone to the protest meeting, Mother. Mary heard him talking to a reporter who came to the door. He wanted to know what Father’s thoughts were on the suffragettes … and how he felt about you almost being arrested.’
Gladys closed her eyes and groaned. ‘I thought that would happen when that policeman recognised me.’
Her words seemed to increase Tommy’s misery as I watched his face openly display the apprehension he felt for his mother. He looked across at me and Mildred. ‘He’s always hitting her. I’m not worried about myself because I’m fit and can take it. But, each time he hits me, I add it to the number I’ll give him when I’m twenty-one and considered an adult. Mother hasn't the strength to keep taking the beatings he gives her. I think he enjoys it.’ He glanced down at his mother’s hand still clasped in his own.
‘Have you reported him to the police?’ I asked as we helped Gladys up off the floor to sit her on one of the easy chairs.
‘No, it’s not that simple.’ Tommy replied.
With painstaking care, Mildred eased the hair away from the blood coming from the cut. ‘Can we have some water to clean it up? Then we’ll get a better idea of how bad it is.’
Tommy nodded and pulled the cord for Mary. ‘My father’s too powerful,’ he continued, ‘and he knows too many rich and influential men. The police wouldn’t get involved. Anyway, they wouldn’t believe me or my mother. We don’t count for anything.’
I was appalled! I knew women didn't have much say before they got the vote, but I didn't realise they had to put up with as much abuse as this.
A tap on the door had Tommy go and open it. It was Mary. He told her what he wanted and she nodded and dashed off. Within minutes, she was back with a bowl of water and a towel.
‘Here, let me have it,’ he offered, taking it out of her hands.
Mary followed him and stared at Gladys. Her eyes were full of sympathy, as well as understanding. ‘Should I go and fetch the doctor?’
‘No!’ Gladys’s sharp reply startled me. ‘You know what would happen if you do. I don’t want to lose you. I’ll be fine.’
Mary clamped her mouth shut, and her lips tightened as she shook her head. ‘I’ll not do anything that will get me dismissed, Mistress, but that cut does look like it needs treatment.’
‘You should see a doctor,’ Mildred concurred as she washed the blood away with the cloth Mary had passed her. ‘I don’t like the look of it, either. It’s quite a deep one. You’re goin’ t’ have a right nasty shiner in the mornin’, you mark my words!’
It was no good, Gladys wouldn’t budge. ‘It’ll heal in its own time. It always does.’ She reached out her hand to Mary. ‘I know you worry about us, and I know how you hide things from Charles, but honestly, I’ll be fine. Okay?’ Mary took a deep, slow breath and nodded.
Gladys squeezed her hand and gave her an unsteady smile. Turning her attention to Mildred and me, her expression became sorrowful. ‘I think you had better go,’ she said with an apologetic smile. ‘If he comes back and sees you’re still here, it will be worse for us. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting him home until tomorrow.’
I would love to have stayed and told her brute of a husband what I thought of him, but I knew what Gladys had said was true. ‘Yes, you’re right. We don’t want to cause you any more problems.’
‘Where do you live? I’d like to keep in touch.’
I glanced over at Mildred, and she gave me a hint of a shrug. No help there!
I decided a little white lie was the only solution. ‘Ah, now that, unfortunately, won’t be possible. We only travelled up from Cornwall to attend this march. We have transport arranged for six o’clock. But, I have a feeling we’ll be back quite soon. We’ll be sure to look out for you.’
I could see a flash of disappointment cloud her face, but it disappeared as fast as it came. ‘Of course. I will watch out for you, too. Have a safe journey. It was so nice to meet you both.’
Mildred stood up and handed the cloth to Mary. ‘You need t’ wipe that cut as clean as you can t’ stop any infection. It would be best if you can find a bandage, or somethin’ t’ cover it till it heals,’ she told her.
Mary nodded and said she had the very thing. Then we said our goodbyes. Once outside, Mildred and I linked arms and walked down the road. ‘That was terrible,’ I said. ‘Fancy being married to a tyrant like that.’ My whole body shook with the horror of it.
Mildred nodded, but said nothing. Her eyes were glazed, I knew she was going over all she’d seen today. ‘It’s not always like this,’ I told her and squeezed her arm.
‘What do you think we’re here for? I’m wondering if it has anything t' do with them people. They certainly need some help.’ She stopped and looked back at where we’d come from. ‘I s’pose it were like this for women back in this time … ‘E reminded me a bit of old Sir John. ‘E were a bully too.’
My memories came flooding back as I remembered how close Mildred was to Mrs Humphries. Mary fulfills the same role to Gladys during this time. I don’t know who was worse, though, the Sir John who murdered his wife and tormented his widowed daughter-in-law; the Sir John who had tried to force his sister into a loveless marriage with that pompous ass for family prestige; or this Vice Admiral who took pleasure in beating his wife and son. What was it with powerful men back in the old days, or was I deluded? Maybe it's still going on in my time, but we just never hear about it.
‘I had those very same thoughts.’ I was about to say more, but that old familiar tingling started that heralded our return to the future. We were going home….
Continued…
Characters
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy - 16-year-old-son.
Vice Admiral Pembrock of the Royal Navy – Gladys’s bullying husband
| Author Notes | Thank you again for reading my story, it's so kind of you. This is written in UK English, hence a few differences in spellings. If you should find any errors, I would be very grateful if you would let me know. Thank you! |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Short synopsis
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit. Is it for Gladys and her son that Veronica and Mildred have been taken back to the early 20th century? Only time will tell.
Now the girls have been sent home to do some research—but how can they do that when they don’t have any idea what they are looking for?
Chapter 5
Unknown Time
The silence was intense. Jowell sat with his head in his hands, totally mystified. The scene they had just witnessed had come as much of a shock to them as it had to Veronica and Mildred.
‘Harrumph!’ Kraid cleared his throat, startling the others. ‘I can see now why the ‘Book of Accounts’ has begun to glow on the future side; this man is a danger to humanity.’ Heads nodded in fierce agreement.
The book in question only glowed when the timeline had been altered; this now appeared to be the case. The change to the natural sequence of events in the future would have dramatic consequences if not righted as soon as possible. When this happened, the watchers were shown two possible outcomes. In this case, even an idiot would know which outcome had to be chosen. Now they had to send a small clue to Veronica and Mildred, so they would be aware of it as well.
Leif looked up at the ceiling, his head tilted towards his shoulder. ‘A suggestion,’ he said, moving his gaze towards the others. Hunching forward, he rested his elbows on the table and dropped his chin into his cupped hands. ‘I think it would be a good idea to have Veronica go back to being invisible to everyone but Mildred and—’
A spark of interest lit Jowell’s eyes. ‘How would that help?’
‘For a start, it would give Veronica the freedom to come and go as she deems necessary. She has a lot more experience in this. Mildred can remain as she is.’
‘I think that could work to everyone’s advantage,’ Petro said as he sat up straight. ‘It would open up more avenues in their search for answers. By the way, nice touch with the costumes, Jowell. It could have created problems had they arrived in that era in their own clothes.’
Jowell had a glint in his eyes. ‘It was, wasn’t it?’ He sat drumming his finger on the table for a moment. ‘When we send them back, Mildred will need another costume. We are agreed that Veronica is best suited for the invisible part?’ They all nodded. ‘Good. Mildred, on the other hand, will be of more use in the open—she’s far more outspoken and will fit in better for the role she’ll be taking on.’
Leif sat up and reached over for the jug of water, then poured some into the gilt goblet in front of him. ‘What costume do you have in mind for her?’
Jowell joined the other two in holding his goblet up for Leif to refill. He took a sip of his drink and smiled. ‘Something special, I think, but I’m still working on that. For now, I suggest that we watch how this works for a while, and then we’ll meet again. I’ll send a runner with messages for you all.’ Jowell looked at his friends and noted their faces displayed more confidence than they’d previously shown. ‘If that’s all?’ The other three again nodded in unison. ‘Then the meeting is adjourned.’
1996
‘Oh Lordy, we’re back!’ Mildred gripped hold of my arm as we found ourselves sitting in the garden, still listening to the sound of Ann’s piano playing floating through the open cottage window.
It didn’t matter how often I’d time-travelled, it was still a weird sensation to find yourself back home at the exact time you left. Mildred obviously felt the effect too, because the look on her face was one of surprise, tinged with confusion. ‘Just stay quiet for a moment until you stop feeling shaky. It won’t be long before you get the hang of it.’
I watched Michael kick the ball towards the makeshift goal posts at the edge of the lawn, and James pretend to miss it as he dived to stop it going in. The squeals and cheers from my son had me laughing. When I eventually drew breath, I looked at my watch and realised it would soon be time for the children to get ready for bed.
James looked totally stunned when I told him about our trip back to the early twentieth century. We’d not mentioned it until the children were in bed, and dinner dishes had been cleared away.
‘You were there as well, Mildred? Well, thank goodness for that. I’ve never liked the idea of you being alone when you travelled back into the past, Veronica. It used to worry the life out of me.’ He turned back to Mildred and smiled. ‘Did you enjoy the experience?’
She gave one of her lopsided grins before a frown creased her brow. ‘Well, I did until that disgusting man came on the scene and we were forced t’ stand there while he smacked Gladys round the face, and then bully his son. That weren’t nice. And another thing—it weren’t nice bein’ put inside them tight boned corset thingies! Oh Lordy, it near cut me in half! I can see why women used t' faint all over the place, I felt like me breathin’ apparatus had been cut off!’ Mildred turned to me and grinned. ‘But, ‘part from that, it were good fun.’
James frowned and scratched his head. ‘I thought you said nobody could see you except an occasional ghost and a select number of human beings? Why would you need costumes?’
I giggled when I realised that in my eagerness to tell James about Gladys and her son, I had omitted a few facts. ‘I’m sorry, Love. I meant to tell you that it was very different this time. Not only could we be seen by everyone around us, but the powers that be made sure we would blend in. I was garbed out in a lovely pale grey outfit, and Mildred was wearing a chocolate coloured suit that complimented her lovely auburn curls—and very fetching it was. too!’
Mildred looked slightly embarrassed by my compliment, and I could see the flush of colour in her cheeks. ‘It certainly beat the maid’s outfit I had t’ wear in the early days with Mrs Humphries. I never really thought about what I wore after that, as long as it were hard wearing and practical. It were nice t' be dressed up in something like that … just a shame I had t' wear that body torture thing as well.’
I suddenly realised that Mildred didn't know how attractive she was. Although she'd worn up to date clothing since she'd returned as her younger self five years ago, I’d never seen her with make-up on, or have her hair done professionally. I didn't doubt for a moment that if she made a bit more effort, men would be flocking to ask her out.
‘So, have you any idea what you’re expected to do this time?’
Mildred shook her head. ‘It must have somethin’ t’ do with Gladys and her boy. Why else would we have spent the whole time with her?’
‘I believe you’re right, Mildred. But, somehow, I can’t get my head around it being about the abuse they’re suffering. I’m sure they aren’t the only ones, especially with those women who are fighting for their rights. You heard Charles telling us that it was all our lot's doing. I guessed that to mean the suffragettes.’ I had a sudden flashback of him hitting Gladys, and shuddered. ‘There were countless husbands back then who were against it, and probably making their wives suffer for it. as well.’
James nodded. ‘Yes, I agree. But, if it’s not that, what else could it be?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. That’s the crazy thing. Every other assignment I’ve had, the powers that be have given me a clue on the first trip. This time … well, nothing apart from what I’ve told you. I do believe that Gladys and Tommy are involved somehow, and even her nasty husband must play some sort of role. It’s very frustrating.’
I watched as Mildred stood up, picked up her tea-cup, and then put it back on the table before sitting down again. ‘Tis just a thought, but perhaps we should see if there’s any record of the Vice Admiral that might shed some light on all this. You don’t know. We’re just guessin’ it’s t’ do with him and his abusive ways. We might be right off the mark.’
‘Hmm, that’s a thought. While we’re at it, we could check up on Gladys and Tommy,’ I said, feeling a bit brighter now we were planning to do something constructive. ‘First thing in the morning, after we’ve taken the children to school, we’ll go to the library.’ I looked at my watch as I yawned. ‘Now, I’m ready for some shut-eye.’
The following morning, Mildred and I went marching into the library with hopeful expectations. I doubted there would be another Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock. One was one too many!
‘Here’s an entry,’ I said, beckoning Mildred over to sit beside me. I moved the book between us so we could both read it at the same time. ‘It’s definitely our man, and there’s a mention of his marriage to Gladys. There’s nothing more that could suggest we have been sent back because of him.’
We carried on further, but he wasn’t mentioned again until 1916. ‘Here we go again. Ah, now this might be something. Look at this,’ I bumped my chair a bit closer to Mildred’s and started reading. ‘He had a meeting with Sir Winston Churchill two years into the first world war. Churchill was the First Lord of the Admiralty at that time. Hmm, it doesn’t tell us anything, though. I wonder what that was about.’
‘Dunno. Could be somethin’ or absolutely nothin’. I don’t think we’re goin’ t’ learn much here. Nothin’ worth anythin’, anyways.’
I had to agree with Mildred. So far, everything had been as you would expect. ‘Let’s see if there is any mention of Gladys.’ I picked up the book dating 1907. ‘Let’s start here. I’ll do this one, you do 1908.’
I was ready to call it a day by the time we’d reached 1913, when an entry in the corner of the page caught my eye. ‘Oh, my goodness! Here, listen to this. June 5th Lady Gladys Pembrock was arrested today for causing a disturbance alongside other prominent women of the Suffragette Movement. Her trial is fixed for the twelfth of June!' I slammed the book shut and stared at Mildred. ‘That will really infuriate Charles. How will she cope with that? Oh dear, I really don’t like the sound of this….’
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy - 16-year-old-son.
Vice Admiral Pembrock of the Royal Navy – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary- Maid
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading this chapter. If you see any errors, I'd be most grateful to have them pointed out to me. Thank you in advance. This is written in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Short synopsis
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys, is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit. Is it for Gladys and her son that Veronica and Mildred have been taken back to the early 20th century? Only time will tell.
End of Chapter 5
I had to agree with Mildred. So far, everything had been as you would expect. ‘Let’s see if there is any mention of Gladys.’ I picked up the book dated 1907. ‘Let’s start here. I’ll do this one, you do 1908.’
I was ready to call it a day by the time we’d reached 1913, when an entry in the corner of the page caught my eye. ‘Oh, my goodness! Here, listen to this. ‘June 5th Lady Gladys Pembrock was arrested today for causing a disturbance alongside other prominent women of the Suffragette Movement. Her trial is fixed for the twelfth of June!’ I slammed the book shut and stared at Mildred. ‘That will really annoy Charles. How will she cope with that? Oh dear, I really don’t like the sound of this….’
Chapter 6
‘Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, she’s in a whole load of trouble now!’ Mildred glared at the book as if it were to blame for Gladys being in prison.
To say I was worried was an understatement. How will she cope in prison? They were dreadful places back in those days. What’ll happen when she’s released and in her husband’s clutches? He’ll be fuming. God knows what he’ll do to her!
‘Let’s go home and have a cup of tea,’ I suggested. ‘We’ll have to think about this one. Although, I haven’t the foggiest idea what we can do about it.’ I looked down at the closed book and sighed. 'This is the first time I’ve been sent to right a wrong, and haven’t, for the life of me, a clue what it is. All we’ve been shown so far are everyday happenings that occurred all the time in that period of history. I can’t interfere in any of it.’
‘Now, don’t you go worryin’ yourself about it. Let’s go home. Most of our answers have come t’ light over a cuppa.’ Mildred stood up and looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. ‘Comin’ then?’
I grabbed my handbag before following her out of the library … and straight into a crowd of people who looked to be enjoying a day at the races in the early twentieth century.
‘Oh Lordy, Miss Veronica! What just happened?’
I looked around and took in the scene in front of us. Why had we been sent to a race course? It was obviously an important event because the women were all dressed up in their finest attire, as were the men. ‘I don’t know, Mildred, but we must have been sent here for a reason. Horse racing was very popular back then, as it is in our time, but I think this must be something special because everyone is dressed up—including you!’
Mildred looked down at the beautiful beige and turquoise outfit whoever organised these things had dressed her in, before looking back at me with a grin. ‘Well, I wish I could be sayin’ the same thing about you, Miss Veronica. Them jeans are goin’ t’ stick out like a sore thumb!’
I gasped when I followed her gaze, and tried to understand what was happening. Sure enough, I was still wearing the jeans and sweater I’d been wearing at the library back in our time. Not one head turned in my direction, though, so I could only assume Mildred was the only person who could see me.
‘It looks like you’re invisible again,’ she tried to whisper through clenched teeth. ‘Lordy, they’ll all be thinkin’ I’m off my rocker talkin’ t’ meself!’ She threw a sheepish grin towards a man in a top hat who had been staring at her, opened the elegant parasol she’d found in her hand, and beckoned me to join her underneath it so she could speak to me unobserved.
‘I’m guessin’ somethin’ important happened at this race course—somethin’ that had Gladys locked up,’ she said with a frown.
Before I had a chance to ponder as to what it could be, people around us started to cheer as they moved towards the guard rail around the course.
‘My money’s on Amner, the king’s horse,’ a man shouted over his shoulder to his friend. ‘I’ve got a guinea riding on it.’
My brain started to whirr as I digested what he’d just said. I knew little about the suffragette movement, but I did recall a woman being killed after she threw herself in front of the King’s horse at the Derby. ‘Oh, my God, Mildred. I think we’re about to witness a tragedy.’
Mildred looked at me. ‘What kind of tragedy—is one of them horse jockey men goin' t’ get killed?’
‘No, not as far as I know, but I think one of the suffragettes is going to throw herself in front of the King’s horse...’
No longer concerned about anyone seeing her apparently talking to herself, Mildred threw aside the parasol. ‘Oh Lordy, perhaps we can stop her!’ she shouted as she started moving towards the railings as fast as she could.
‘But you can’t!’ I shouted after her. ‘You could change history if you do!’
Whether she couldn’t hear me over the escalating cheers that had started to fill the air, I’ll never know, but Mildred forced herself through the crowd with me hot on her heels. When I reached her side, I could see a woman raising a suffragette flag and shouting, ‘give women the vote,’ as she bent down to slip under the railing.
I tried to stop Mildred from interfering by grabbing her arm, but my hand passed right through it. ‘I mean it, Mildred—if you stop the woman, goodness knows what will happen in the future!’ I screeched.
When a few women screamed, I knew it had happened. The crowd, including several suffragettes supporting a banner, surged forward to see the woman lying crumpled on the ground. A few feet away, the King’s horse was struggling to stand up, the jockey’s leg trapped underneath its torso.
‘Is she alright?’ one of the suffragettes called out. ‘Please, is Emily alright?’
No one was answering because nobody knew. There were officials bent over the woman’s still body, and when a stretcher arrived, she was gently laid on it and taken to the awaiting ambulance on the track. The woman’s face wasn’t covered, so it could only be assumed she was still alive.
Mildred looked at me over the bowed heads of the women and nodded towards Gladys, who had emerged from the crowd. I went straight to her. I could see straight away she was in shock. Slowly, there were rumblings amongst the women. They were angry. They wanted justice. I shook my head in disbelief. It was no one’s fault but her own! As word went around the group, they began moving away. Mildred was swept up with them, and I followed.
Outside, there were so many cars, as well as horse and carriages, waiting for the richer people who would soon be leaving the grounds. The group of suffragettes ignored them all and made their way silently down the road. Mildred had her arm around Gladys, who had been really shaken by the outcome of her fellow suffragette's bravery.
I wondered where they were all going and wasn’t kept in the dark too long. After ten minutes, we came to a hall, and the women who had supported their friend’s hot-headed plan, all turned and went in. The silence was awful. Everyone managed to get into the room, but their anguish deepened as they stood and stared at all the bunting.
Words including, ‘Congratulations, Emily’ on banners strung across the room, glared spitefully back at the women standing there. Balloons, flags, and tables of food and drink were all available for the big celebration that was to be for Emily. However, since events had changed the meaning of this gathering, the women began pulling the bunting down, and crumpled it up before they threw it all in the rubbish sacks. Once it had all been cleared away, the ladies sat down at the tables. One of them then stood at the front and waited until everyone had settled down.
‘I think you all know me here, but in case there are some who don’t, my name is Clare Hawkins. I am Emily’s neighbour and close friend.’ Her voice wobbled, and we watched as she took a deep breath and dabbed her embroidered lace handkerchief on her eyes. ‘What can I say?’ She looked around the room at all the faces upturned and gazing at her with desolate expressions. ‘This was not the way it was supposed to happen.’ She took another tremulous breath. ‘I couldn’t see clearly, as there were so many pushing ahead trying to get a look at the King’s horse. Did anyone of you witness the event clearly enough to tell us what went wrong?’
There was silence, then a soft voice spoke up at the back of the room. ‘I did.’
‘Mary? Could you tell us?’
Mary nodded. ‘Emily slipped under the fence, as she said she would, and … and it was only a matter of seconds before she was hit by the horse ... and then the horse toppled....’ The enormity of what she had just witnessed made Mary collapse in tears.
This opened the floodgates for many of the women. Clare stood silently, not moving, but the emotions that were flitting over her face showed the horror she was feeling. I couldn’t speak to Mildred because she was busy comforting Gladys. Although she hadn’t been declared dead, nobody was under any illusion Emily would survive her ordeal. I had to be content with watching and waiting.
A few minutes passed before Clare called for everyone’s attention. ‘We can’t … we mustn’t let Emily’s brave attempt to draw attention to our movement count for nothing,’ she said, her voice strong and determined. ‘Tomorrow, all who can make it, I want you to join me in a march to Downing Street to voice our protest that one very brave lady will probably die because of their inability to see that women should be just as entitled as men to vote for who we want to run our country ... and our lives.'
The women all nodded and murmured their agreement. ‘Who is with me?’ Clare shouted. ‘Who will join me tomorrow and let the members of our government know we will not be silenced!’
The whole group responded by standing up and shouting, ‘We will not be silenced!’
I looked over at Mildred’s worried face as she stood beside Gladys, who was shouting out as loud as the rest. How can we persuade Gladys not to go? I watched her as she stood shaking her fist in the air. She's not thinking at all of the consequences her actions will bring down on her head….
Continued…
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy - 16-year-old-son.
Vice Admiral Pembrock of the Royal Navy – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary- Maid
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | It seems, Emily had not intended to commit suicide that day because she had arranged to attend rallies and make speeches around the country. Although this was an actual event, my characters and their story is totally fictional. Thank you so much for reading this part. If you find any errors, I'm always grateful to have them pointed out. This is in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 6
After Emily was knocked unconscious and will very likely die, Clare is trying to rally the women to go on another protest march. The women all nodded and murmured their agreement.
‘Who is with me?’ Clare shouted. ‘Who will join me tomorrow and let the members of our government know we will not be silenced!’
The whole group responded by standing up and shouting, ‘We will not be silenced!’
I looked over at Mildred’s worried face as she stood beside Gladys, who was shouting out as loud as the rest. How can we persuade Gladys not to go? I watched her as she stood shaking her fist in the air. She's not thinking at all of the consequences her actions will bring down on her head….
Part 7
With appetites lost, the women viewed the food laid out on the tables with a growing feeling of nausea. What was to have been a feast of celebration had now become the cause of much wretchedness. One lady suggested the food be taken to the local orphanage, and everyone agreed.
At least someone had been astute enough to light the gas under the big urn, though, and was in the process of making several pots of much welcomed tea.
"Where is Veronica?" Gladys asked Mildred as she looked around the room. "Isn’t she with you this time?"
Mildred sipped her tea before answering. "No. She had an appointment which couldn’t be put off. But she were disappointed at not being able t’ come t’day. In a way, I’m glad she weren’t here. She’s goin’ t’ be right upset when she finds out what happened."
The hilarious, wide-eyed, quirky expression she threw me made me laugh. I wagged my finger at her. "Behave yourself before Gladys sees you and thinks you need to be locked away!"
"What are you doing after this?" Gladys asked. "Are you staying here, or going back to Cornwall?"
Oh! We never thought of that one. It was my turn to raise my eyebrows at Mildred. "Quick, look in your purse and see if there are any coins in there."
She rummaged in the small velvet bag to see what it contained before shaking her head and giving me a furtive look. She then turned to Gladys with an anxious expression. "I … I really don’t know," she said, letting her shoulders slump in feigned despair. "I had a return coach ticket, but I appear t’ have lost it … and I don’t have any money on me. Oh Lordy, why is everything going wrong today?"
Gladys laid her hand on Mildred’s arm and smiled. "Don’t worry. My Aunt Amelia has three lovely guest rooms, and I know she’d be happy to put you up."
Mildred looked relieved but protested all the same. "I can’t expect your aunt t’ take me in without payin’ her. She don’t know anythin’ about me."
"Nonsense! Aunt Amelia lives next door to me, so it will be very convenient. We’ll pay her a visit when we leave here." Gladys put her hand up and raised her brows when Mildred opened her mouth again as if to object.
****
"Here we are." Gladys took hold of Mildred’s arm as she led her up to the front door and banged the huge brass knocker. A smiling maid opened the door and stood aside to let Gladys and Mildred through.
"Her Ladyship is in the drawing room. I shall let her know you’re here." The maid hurried off. Moments later, an elegantly dressed lady with silver-grey hair came bustling through to the reception hall.
"Gladys! Is it true … Emily's dead? Goodness me! What happened?"
Gladys was quick to calm her aunt. "No, Emily isn’t dead, at least she wasn’t when they carried her to the ambulance. News has certainly travelled fast. Come, let’s go into the drawing room, and I will tell you all about it."
Amelia suddenly noticed Mildred and gave a faltering smile. "Gladys, would you like to introduce me to your friend?"
"Oh, I’m so sorry." She reached out and tucked her arm through Mildred’s. "Aunt Amelia, this is my friend, Mildred. She finds herself in quite a predicament. Due to all the unfortunate happenings, she has missed her coach home to Cornwall, and to make matters worse, she is without funds to pay for a room—"
"Oh, my dear lady," Amelia cut in. "You must stay with me. I have plenty of spare rooms and would welcome the company. No, please … I insist. Let’s say no more about it."
"You are very kind, Lady …" Mildred faltered because she had no idea what Gladys’s aunts full name was.
"Oh fiddle! What is wrong with me today? My mind is so mixed-up, I’m totally forgetting my manners. Mildred, may I introduce you to my aunt, Lady Monkton."
"Please call me Amelia," she said decisively, before flashing a warm and friendly smile. "Now, let’s go into the drawing room, and I’ll have tea brought through." Amelia turned to the maid, who was still standing there waiting to take Gladys and Mildred's parasols and gloves.
"Straight away, Madam."
Once they were sitting comfortably, Gladys described the day’s events and told her about the impromptu march arranged for the following day.
"You will be careful, won’t you, dear? You know how Charles dislikes the suffragettes." Amelia looked keenly at her niece. "Don’t forget, I grew up with his father, and I know he’s of the same disposition."
Gladys coughed and took her handkerchief from her pocket to dab her lips. "Charles is away for a few days, Aunty, so he won’t know anything about it." She cast a nervous look towards Mildred and was given a reassuring smile. Her secret of Charles' recent abuse was safe with Mildred.
After they’d finished their tea, Gladys took Mildred up to the room Amelia’s maid had prepared for her. The décor was surprisingly light and airy, featuring a huge bed, covered with a lovely patchwork quilt, and a bolster pillow with two smaller ones leant against it. Long, green velvet drapes hung open at the window, and a wicker chair was placed next to the bed. A polished walnut tallboy stood against the wall opposite, and a floral-patterned dressing screen completed the room.
"It’s lovely," Mildred said, moving over to the window. The view overlooked the park, which would be nice to see in the morning when it was full daylight. The sun was dipping now, sending eerie shadows from the trees. Mildred closed the curtains and turned back to Gladys. "It was so kind of your aunt. I will have t’ send a message home for funds t’ buy another coach ticket."
"No need for that, dear girl, I’ll lend you what you need, and you can repay me next time you come to London." She walked over to the door. "I’m going home now. Tommy will be back from school and wondering where I am. I’ll call for you in the morning, and we can join the march together … you will be coming, won’t you?"
"Try keepin’ me away."
Once Gladys had gone, Mildred flopped down on the bed and then looked up at me and grinned. "That went okay, didn’t it?"
"You did well, and your acting has come on a treat," I told her. "Since Gladys has offered to lend you some money, we can stop worrying about that." I moved across to the wicker chair and sat down. "I’m worried about tomorrow, though. We both know how impetuous Gladys can be when she’s with all her suffragette friends. Do you think you’ll be able to keep her out of trouble?"
Mildred chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about it. "It’s not goin’ t’ be easy, I can tell you that. I’ll be needin’ me wits about me, for sure." She stopped and looked at me. "We don’t know if we’ll even be here. S’posin we’re sent back t’ our own time?"
"I can’t see that happening, Mildred. They’ve obviously sent us to this time in order to stop her—what other reason could it be for?" I sat back in the chair and crossed my legs. "If we do disappear, there’s not a thing we can do about it, anyway."
As Mildred stood up to put her bag on the top of the tallboy, I was struck by how tired she looked. "It’s been a long day, hasn’t it? I think you’ll sleep well tonight."
Sitting back on the bed, she appeared a bit despondent. "It’s weird, you know. I knew about Emily and what she were going t’ do, yet, for some reason I’d forgotten all about it when you told me before the race started. If you hadn’t’ve shouted at me, I’d probably have stopped her." She looked down at her hands as she linked them together on her lap. "I could’ve changed history … I could’ve ruined everything."
"Well, you didn’t stop her, and you didn’t change history, so stop worrying about what might have been." I smiled at her, trying to lift her spirits. "This is a lovely room, isn’t it? And Amelia seems like a really nice person."
"Yes, she does." Mildred took a deep breath and stood up. "I think I’d better go down and see her. She said she’d like the company." As fast as her doldrums had come, they disappeared. She looked at me as she smoothed the creases in her skirt, and flashed me one of her cheeky grins. "You’re right, an’ I’m being daft. Come on, let’s go down and see Amelia."
We found her reading in the drawing room. "Ah, Mildred, how nice of you to join me. Come, sit down and talk to me. My niece said you come from Cornwall? Such a lovely county. When my dear Harold was alive, we would take our holidays there. So peaceful, not a bit like London."
"Yes, it is a peaceful place," Mildred agreed. "How long have you lived in London?"
"All my life. In fact, I was born in this very house. When Harold and I married, my father was already an invalid, so we decided it would be better to live here and look after him." Her eyes took on a dreamy haze. "He was a wonderful husband … unlike Gladys’s."
She turned to Mildred, her face etched with worry. "Is Gladys alright? I saw that look she gave you. Does her husband hit her? She had a black eye last week. No amount of white powder can cover something like that."
Mildred was caught off guard. She glanced up at me before answering. "I … I don’t know Gladys that well, Amelia—"
Amelia looked stricken. "I am so sorry! That was most rude of me."
"No, I’m sorry," Mildred countered. "I know you’re only thinking of Gladys, and I know you’re worried about her."
"It’s been on my mind for a long time now, and I’ve had no one to talk to about it. I wish she would confide in me, but she won’t be disloyal. My brother, Charles’s father, was a brute and a bully. I just couldn’t understand it because our father was such a gentle soul."
So many emotions flitted over her face. When she turned to look at Mildred, the pain in her eyes was evident. "I’m so worried about tomorrow. I wish she would stay away from the suffragettes. If Charles hears about it…."
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy - 16-year-old-son.
Vice Admiral Pembrock of the Royal Navy – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary- Maid
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading my book. I do appreciate every one of you. If you find an error, please let me know, sometimes they hide from me! UK English spellings. The cover is my own for my time-travelling books, The title will be inserted when I choose the one I want. :) |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Short synopsis
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys, is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit. Is it for Gladys and her son that Veronica and Mildred have been taken back to the early 20th century? Only time will tell.
End of Part 7
She turned to Mildred, her face etched with worry. "Is Gladys alright? I saw that look she gave you. Does her husband hit her? She had a black eye last week. No amount of white powder can cover something like that."
Mildred was caught off guard. She glanced up at me before answering. "I … I don’t know Gladys that well, Amelia—"
Amelia looked stricken. "I am so sorry! That was most rude of me."
"No, I’m sorry," Mildred countered. "I know you’re only thinking of Gladys, and I know you’re worried about her."
"It’s been on my mind for a long time now, and I’ve had no one to talk to about it. I wish she would confide in me, but she won’t be disloyal. My brother, Charles’s father, was a brute and a bully. I just couldn’t understand it because our father was such a gentle soul."
So many emotions flitted over her face. When she turned to look at Mildred, the pain in her eyes was evident. "I’m so worried about tomorrow. I wish she would stay away from the suffragettes. If Charles hears about it…."
Chapter 8
Prompt on ten o’clock, we heard the expected knock on the door. Breakfast had been cleared away, and Mildred was ready and waiting. She turned to Amelia and gave her an appreciative smile. “Thank you so much for your kindness.”
“Not at all. If you come to London again and find yourself needing a place to stay, you know where I live. It’s been a pleasure having some company … and, thank you, Mildred. I see a wise, ancient soul in the depths of your eyes. A rare but beautiful thing.”
“Are you ready?” asked Gladys, coming into the drawing room and saving Mildred from having to say anything. “Good morning, Aunty.” She went over and kissed Amelia on the cheek. “Sorry to take your new companion away from you.”
“I’ll forgive you.” Amelia’s smile slipped for a moment as she looked back at Gladys. “Please, do be careful, and don’t do anything rash. I know you too well.”
Looking as compliant as possible, Gladys promised.
Once we were outside and hurrying along the road to where we would be meeting the other women, Gladys slipped her arm through Mildred’s. "I presume my aunt quizzed you about Charles. Did you tell her what happened the other day?"
"Of course not! It's none of my business. And anyway, I don't go runnin' round tellin' tales."
Gladys looked relieved and gave Mildred's arm a squeeze. "I can't thank you enough. I know Aunt Amelia worries about me, but telling her what Charles is like would only upset her."
I smiled as I watched Mildred colour up. Bringing her hand up to fiddle with her hair, she managed to hide her discomfort. “I think she’s got a good idea of what goes on when the Vice Admiral’s at home. She were tellin’ me about her brother ... Charles’s dad, and how he were a bully. So different t’ their own dad. But, she’s right t’ be worried about you. I’ve seen you when you’re with the suffragettes.”
“My aunt obviously took a shine to you, Mildred. She never mentions her brother to me. I’ve often wondered what he did that caused her to hate him so much. Anyway, that aside, if you see me doing anything that could be construed as risky, you have my permission to stop me. Come on, let’s see how many have turned up.”
The hall was full, and more arrived after us. Gladys got swept up with a few of her friends, and I watched as her demeanour changed. She became a different woman when she was with the movement— so animated. I doubted Charles would recognise the little mouse he had created at home as the woman she was here. The fact that she could be arrested today made me feel so anxious, and I knew Mildred felt the same.
“I think you might find Gladys difficult to hold back when we get to Downing Street,” I told her. “Look at the way she’s acting now. There’s going to be trouble. They’re all angry, and that doesn’t bode well for any of them.”
Mildred covered her mouth with her hand and pretended to look around. “I’ve never seen the like before. Women actin’ like … oh, Lordy, they’s actin’ like a load of ruffians, plannin’ their next brawl. Not like ladies at all!”
“Are you frightened?” She had every right to be. Poor Mildred, she’d had such a quiet life living with a genteel lady in her previous life. This would be so strange for her.
Mildred appeared to consider my question. “I don’t think I’m frightened, as in scared stiff, but me stomach’s telling me it’s not that happy about it.”
The leader, or the woman I recognised from yesterday, Clare, climbed onto the table and called them all to order. “Thank you all for coming, Ladies. Together we are strong, and with strength comes determination and results. We can do this!”
The women standing around the room raised their hands and cheered, and Clare waited until they had quieted down before she spoke again. “The good side of it is, nobody knows we're coming. They’d never suspect we’d be out in force the day after one of our sisters risked her life to try and bring more attention to our cause."
A low murmuring passing around the room that spoke volumes of how the group regarded their friend. Clare waited once again, and I watched as she observed the women’s faces. She knew how to rile them up. The more I watched and listened, the more apprehensive I was becoming. There was no way I could see Mildred being able to stop Gladys from getting herself arrested.
“Ladies!” Clare shouted as she held her hands up for quiet. “Let us now march to Downing Street. Enough is enough … let’s all do this for Emily!”
The resulting cheers as they walked out the hall and the looks of anger on their faces told me today was going to be a day I would never forget.
*****
I observed the women as they strode with dogged determination along the road. The hostility was building before we’d even arrived at Downing Street. Mildred looked over at me and raised her brows. She was worried too, but what could she do?
Gladys grabbed hold of Mildred’s arm. “You stay close to me, and you’ll be alright.” She turned as Clare shouted loudly to everyone there.
“Are you all ready for it, Ladies?”
The responding roars gave her the answer she wanted. “Then raise your banners because we’re here!”
We turned the corner into the street—and stopped sharp. The group fell silent and turned to look at each other, uncertain as to whether they should proceed. Ahead of us were so many police, it was impossible to count them. They’d been expecting the women, so they must have been tipped off. I wondered if it was one of these ladies who’d told them … or had someone overheard?
When the police brought out their truncheons, this stirred the women up again. The anger was increasing, and it wouldn’t take much for the situation to explode into something even more volatile. I tried to get to Mildred to tell her to pull Gladys back, but she was caught up in the throng, and both of them were being forced to the front.
Without any warning, the police and the women charged at each other. The subsequent mayhem saw many women knocked to the ground, and others dragged off to the awaiting police vans. I screamed out to Mildred, but she couldn’t hear me above the roar of the mob … and they were a mob now. The frenzied mood saw the departure of rational common sense. I last saw Gladys as she was dragged, kicking and screaming towards the van, and then brutally thrown inside. Worse still, Mildred was next…!
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | This is written in UK English. Thank you all for reading my story, I really appreciate your support. If you should find any errors, I'll be very grateful if you would tell me. Thank you in advance. :) |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Short synopsis
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys, is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit. Is it for Gladys and her son that Veronica and Mildred have been taken back to the early 20th century? Only time will tell.
End of part 8
Without any warning, the police and the women charged at each other. The subsequent mayhem saw many women knocked to the ground and others dragged off to the awaiting police vans. I screamed out to Mildred, but she couldn’t hear me above the roar of the screaming mob … and they were a mob now. The frenzied mood saw the departure of rational common sense. I last saw Gladys as she was dragged, kicking and screaming, towards the van, and then brutally thrown inside. Worse still, Mildred was next…!
Part 9
Stunned by what had just happened, for one dreadful moment my whole body felt as though it didn’t belong to me, I couldn’t move or scream out. When reason came back, I desperately tried to reach the van that held Mildred and Gladys, but was forced to watch helplessly as it pulled away. My mind froze. Think, Veronica, think! I have to follow them, but how?
I gave myself a mental shake and looked around. The women were still shouting at the police and fighting them when they were grabbed and forced into the remaining vans. I had to reach one of them before they all left. Luckily, I managed to get behind two of the policemen, who were struggling with another woman, and then I followed them to the van. Safe in the knowledge that Mildred was the only person who could see me in my invisible state, I jumped in and moved to the back.
My stomach felt as tight as a knot. What would Mildred be like? I became aware of the other women sitting in here. Some looked petrified; perhaps they too had husbands like Charles, or family who would not be impressed to find out she was one of the suffragettes who had been arrested.
A middle-aged, grey-haired lady leant forward to speak. “Ladies, before we get to Holloway prison, I’d like to ask if anyone here is pregnant?” She looked around the van and let out a sigh of relief when no hands went up. “That’s good.”
A quiet voice took everyone's eyes to a young lady sitting near the front. “Why did you ask?”
“I’m a midwife. It’s not unusual for pregnant ladies to miscarry in prison. But, if none of you are, there’s nothing for me to worry about.”
The van slowed down, and shouts could be heard before it moved on. “We must be here,’ the midwife said.
All the elder women appeared far calmer than the younger ones. Now that they’d arrived, I could see how scared they’d become. It was fine being a part of the suffragette group, attending meetings and rallies, going on marches—but this? This was the harsh reality.
After the van stopped, the ladies climbed out and followed a warden into a cold, grey room where many of the other suffragettes were standing. To say it was a dismal place was an understatement, it was terrifying. With growing anxiety, I wondered how Gladys and Mildred fared.
The eerie silence enabled me to shout for Mildred to raise her hand so I could see her. I waited for a few moments, and when no hand appeared, I had to accept she wasn’t here.
As I turned my attention from Mildred to the other women, I was overwhelmed. Goodness me! How many suffragettes have been arrested? There’s got to be well over a hundred here. I couldn’t see Mildred anywhere, and just as I was beginning to despair, I went into a room where at least fifty women were being spoken to by a male prison officer. A female warden stood on either side of his desk.
Deciding I would be best placed standing on the desk to search over the sea of heads, I went across and climbed up. I was able to see the women clearly and, better still, I immediately spotted Mildred in the middle of the group. When she saw me, I smiled and gave her a thumbs up.
“Are you alright? Nod if you are.”
She smiled and nodded. ‘Good. I don’t know what’s going to happen now, but hopefully you’ll be out of here soon.” I looked past Mildred and saw Gladys standing behind her just before the officious looking officer started to speak.
“You will all be taken to a cell where you will remain silent until you are called to see the doctor. After that, you will have a bath, and your clothes will be packed away until your release. In the meantime, you will be given a prison uniform.” He stopped, stood up, and cast a contemptuous glare at the women standing in front of him. “Your stay here will be as painful, or painless, as you wish to make it. If you go on hunger-strike, as is the way of some of you foolish women, then you will be force-fed. That, I can assure you, is excruciating. There will be no exceptions. Don’t think your class will protect you. Once you are in your prison uniform, you will all be treated the same.”
He stopped again and turned to the female wardens. “You can take these prisoners to their cells after you’ve registered them.” When they nodded obediently, he spun on his heel and left the room.
The women gave the wardens their details and were then taken to their cells. I trailed after them along the corridors until we reached the one Mildred was allocated, and I followed her in. The cell was very small, and only contained a metal bed with a thin mattress, a blanket and pillow, and a bucket acting as a commode in the corner. Good grief! There’s not even a screen to allow them the slightest bit of privacy to retain their dignity. The whole area was no larger than a small bathroom.
“Oh Lordy, Miss Veronica, I’ve gotta have a bath here … I can’t ... I just can’t. I can’t take my clothes off in front of those wardens! Oh my … how did I get caught up in this mess?” Mildred slumped down on the creaky bed before dropping her head into her hands.
She looked so miserable, so unlike my dear, happy-go-lucky Mildred. If I could only reassure her, but how? I couldn’t get her out, and I couldn’t ask anyone how long she would be here. In fact, I couldn’t do anything in my present form. “I don’t think for one minute the powers that be will let this happen, Mildred,” I eventually said. “They must know what’s going on.”
Mildred tilted her head up to look at me. “I can only hope you're right, Miss Veronica. But I don’t know what would happen if they just took it in their heads t’ take me out of this. How would the wardens explain that?” A sudden grin lit her face. “I’d like t’ see their reaction, though.”
We’d been sitting there for over four hours. Now and again, I would pop out and look in on Gladys to see how she was bearing up. Each time I went, she would be sitting on her bed in the same position as the last time, just staring into space. She never moved at all. It was really playing on my mind.
“I’m worried about Gladys,” I said eventually.
Mildred nodded and clasped her hands on her lap. “She’s a lady, so she’s not used t' this, or anythin' like it. Not that I am, mind you, but I’ve not had the life Gladys has had. I ‘spect she’s thinkin’ about Charles, too.”
We both lapsed into silence. Dear God, what will happen to her? It’s bad enough being in here, but when she has to face her husband…. A sudden clanging of keys had me shoot back out to the corridor to see what was happening. They were taking Gladys out of her cell. As they passed Mildred’s, Gladys turned her head and gave her a nervous smile.
“I’m going to follow them,” I called out to Mildred as I dashed off.
As they moved ahead, I realised we weren’t going to another cell, or to see the doctor. We were leaving the prison area and taken into what looked like an office. Inside, pacing up and down, was a young man, who looked to me to be in his late twenties. As soon as we entered, he came over to Gladys. “Are you alright?”
Gladys visibly paled. “Yes, I’m fine, Robert. How did you know I was here? Does Charles know?”
“Lady Monkton sent me a message. She was worried about you when she heard that many suffragettes had been arrested and immediately went to see if you were at home. When she found out you hadn’t returned from the march, she realised what must have happened and sent me a note. I’ve come to take you home.”
Anyone with half a brain would see how nervous Gladys was. “But how is that possible?” she asked, her hands wringing together.
“Sir Charles knows people in very high places. It was easy to get a release form after your aunt explained in her note how you had gone to visit a sick friend and had accidentally got caught up in all this mayhem.” He placed his hands on Gladys’s shoulders and looked so apologetic, I wondered what was coming next. “I’m afraid you will still have to attend court, but it’s just a routine matter that can be easily sorted out.”
The colour had completely drained from Gladys’s face. She brought her hand up to her forehead and swayed. I noticed she seemed on the verge of fainting when Robert caught her in his arms. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. The vice admiral will be home soon to look after you. I can see this has been a shock.” He looked up at the officer standing nearby and asked him to open the door while he helped Gladys.
So, Charles does know. Robert must have immediately gone to him for help. I’m sure he took the note with him, but I’m equally sure Charles didn’t believe it. No wonder Gladys looks so ill. She’s really in trouble now.
“But, what about Mildred? I can’t leave my friend here!” Gladys looked around frantically as she tried to pull away.
Robert shook his head with frustration. “I can’t help your friend. You can tell me about her when we get you home, and then I’ll see if there is anything I can do.” Without another word, he almost pulled her through the door.
Although pleased that Gladys was going to be released, I felt more worried about Mildred now. I quickly went back to her cell and saw her worried frown deepen when I passed through the cell door. “What’s goin’ on? Where did they take her?”
“It’s alright, she’s been set free. Her aunt managed to get hold of someone who knew what to do. My main concern is that Charles knows she was arrested.”
“Oh, Lordy,” Mildred gasped. “She’ll be in for it now…!"
Seeing how upset Mildred was at that news, I went over to sit beside her on the metal bed … and found myself sitting next to her on the sofa at home in 1996….
Continued....
I found this poem written by Kathleen Emerson, while serving her sentence in 1912, she expressed her feelings in poetry:
THE WOMEN IN PRISON
Oh, Holloway, grim Holloway,
With grey, forbidding towers!
Stern are the walls, but sterner still
Is woman's free, unconquered will.
And though to-day and yesterday
Brought long and lonely hours,
Those hours spent in captivity
Are stepping-stones to liberty.
Characters
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes |
While the facts surrounding the suffragettes are well known, no part of my story is a true account of those times, and none of my characters are real. (apart from Veronica and Mildred, of course!) Thank you for reading my story, and all the help you have given me. This is written in UK English. I would be very grateful if you would point out any errors. :) xx
|
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Short synopsis
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys, is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit. Is it for Gladys and her son that Veronica and Mildred have been taken back to the early 20th century? Only time will tell.
End of Chapter 9
Although pleased that Gladys had been released, my concern for Mildred had intensified. I quickly went back to her cell and saw her worried frown deepen when I passed through the cell door. “What’s goin’ on? Where did they take her?”
“It’s alright, she’s been set free. Her aunt managed to get hold of someone who knew what to do. My main concern is, Charles knows she has been arrested.”
“Oh, Lordy,” Mildred gasped. “She’ll be in for it now…!"
Seeing how upset Mildred was at that news, I went over to sit beside her on the metal bed … and found myself sitting next to her on the sofa at home in 1996….
Chapter 10 - Unknown time.
The powers that be had come together to discuss recent events. Jowell brought the meeting to order. “There’ll be repercussions for the way we removed Mildred from the prison,” he told them, “but it couldn’t be helped.”
“I agree.” Kraid turned to the others as they concurred. “You have to admire the tenacity of those suffragettes.”
Leif gave a wry smile. “Did you see the name and address Mildred gave for herself before they were taken to their cells?”
The three others shook their heads. “Lady Edith Humphries, the Manor House, Truro,” Leif told them with a chuckle. “Sir John’s domineering mother.”
A sudden raucous laugh escaped Petro’s mouth as he rocked back on his chair. “I can just picture the look on Sir John’s face. What would he say if the police knocked on the Manor House door with an arrest warrant for her?”
The laughter that followed did a lot to lighten the mood. "Had he murdered his wife, Lady Ann, by then?” Kraid asked. “If he had, just seeing the police drive up to his door would have put the fear of God in him.”
Jowell scratched the tip of his nose as he pondered the question. “1913? No, I don’t believe he had. In fact, I think she was still a child at that time.”
“What a shame. That would have been very satisfying.” Petro leant forward and looked at the other members of the council. “So, what’s the next stage for Veronica and Mildred?”
They all turned to Jowell, who was usually well advised as to what was going on. “They have all the background details now, so I think it’s time they learn what their assignment is. Once they discover what happened between those times and how this assignment came about—well, let’s see how they proceed from there.”
1996
“Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, I never thought I’d be that pleased t’ get home again. That were the worst time of my lives.” She looked at me and started to giggle. “That sounded so funny!”
I couldn’t help but laugh as well. “The funniest thing is, it’s true! Who knows? You might have had more lives than you can remember.”
Mildred stood up and went to the kitchen. “I’m goin’ t’ put the kettle on," she told me as I followed on her heels. "It feels like a lifetime ago since I last had a proper cuppa. That dish water they gave us in the suffragette’s hall were disgustin’.”
“That’s probably because tea tastes so much better in these,” I told her as I took out two delicate bone china cups and saucers from the cupboard. “Drinking tea out of those tin beakers probably made it taste worse than it actually was."
After Mildred put the tea in the pot, we sat down and waited for the kettle to boil.
“We still don’t know what we were there for, do we? Have you thought of anythin’?”
“No. I can only think Gladys has something to do with it.” I frowned, and after resting my elbows on the table, I dropped my chin into my hands. “I still don’t think it has anything to do with her abusive husband … I mean, why would it? There were many women being abused by their husbands back then. It came as a shock to witness it, though. If my James treated me that way—” I shook my head at the very thought.
“Well, he doesn’t, and he never will.”
We sat for a moment deep in our own thoughts, until the whistle on the kettle made us jump. Mildred poured the boiled water into the teapot, while I fetched the milk from the fridge.
“We’ll have a lot to tell him when he comes home.” I smiled at the thought of my wonderful husband. The poor man never knows what he’s coming home to. “I think I’ll go and have a shower and get changed. It feels as if I’ve been in these clothes for days!”
That evening, after we’d had an early dinner due to James’s hospital shift finishing at four o’clock, we sat down and listened to the children tell us about their day at school. Michael loved it, his thirst for knowledge being similar to that of his father. He certainly didn’t get it from me. At eight-years-old, he was the top of his class in reading, and his teacher had nothing but praise for him. The only lesson he struggled with was *maths.
The teacher told us not to worry. “Because of the amount young children have to learn at the beginning of their academic lives, sometimes, one subject will suffer for a while. Once he’s grasped the basics, the rest will fall in place.” Her confidence in our son sent us home with big, beaming smiles.
Ann also loved school, and excelled as much as Michael. I couldn't help being the proud mother. Her favourite lesson, though, was music.
Later, when the children were in bed, Mildred and I told James about our day. His eyes boggled when Mildred told him about her stay in Holloway Prison.
“I’m sorry t’ have t’ tell you, but you’ve got an escaped fugitive on your hands,” she told him while she tried to keep her face straight.
I curled up laughing at James’s expression. “It’s alright love, she's quite safe … I think!”
Mildred thumped my arm and James grinned. “It just sounds so crazy you being in prison, Mildred, especially Holloway!” Then his smile faded. “What will happen if you go back there and the police recognise you again?”
“I doubt they could. If you could've seen how many of them women were arrested today … that day, no one would be able t' recognise one random individual like me.”
A sudden thought came to me. “What did you say when they asked you for your name and address?”
Mildred grinned as she gave me one of her comical looks. “Do you remember me tellin’ you about Sir John’s mother bein’ the bully, and how he despised his father’s weakness?”
I thought for a minute, and then nodded. “Yes, I remember.”
Mildred’s grin grew wider. “I told them I were Lady Edith Humphries, and I lived in the Manor House in Truro with my son, Sir John. If the police go lookin’ for me, he’ll have a fit!”
That just about finished me off, and I fell apart laughing.
Once Mildred had gone off to bed, James put his arm around me, and I cuddled up to him on the sofa. “I’ve got to admit, I gave a sigh of relief knowing you went back to being invisible. I worry enough about you on your time-travelling trips as it is. I just wish Mildred had the same protection. But I can see the logic in the power’s way of doing things.”
James just voiced what I’d been thinking. “Yes, I can. It worked out well this way. It enabled me to move around the prison without anyone seeing me.” I paused as sudden understanding hit me. “I don’t think the powers will give anything or anyone a chance to hurt Mildred. They took her out of the prison the moment she became upset, regardless of the problems it might cause.”
“That’s good to hear.” He lowered his head to drop a kiss on my forehead. “Are you ready for bed?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” I lifted an eyebrow with what I hoped was a seductive smile.
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading this part in my book. If you see any errors, I'd love it if you point them out for me. One day I'm hoping it will be word perfect! LOL, Nah, can't see that happening until my next lifetime! This is written in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Short synopsis
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys, is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit. Is it for Gladys and her son that Veronica and Mildred have been taken back to the early 20th century? Only time will tell.
End of part 10
“Is it an earthquake?” I shouted to Mildred as we joined the throng of people trying to get away from whatever was going on.
Mildred’s pale face expressed such bewilderment, I was convinced her feelings of fear mirrored mine. “I dunno. Let’s try and find us somewhere safe first, then we can find out what’s goin’ on,” she shouted back.
I nodded grimly. “Where in this hellhole can we find somewhere safe?”
“Look, over there. Everyone’s headin’ that way. Let’s follow them….” She came to an abrupt stop, leaving me no choice but to run straight through her!
The surprise registered in her eyes as we both realised what had happened. Then she looked up again, and her already dropped jaw dropped even further. “Oh Lordy, Miss Veronica … Look!”
Chapter 11
“Mildred,” I gasped. “I think we’re in London during the First World War. That thing up there is a Zeppelin, and it’s responsible for the carnage down here. What’s more, there might be more of them.”
Her eyes lowered to meet mine, and an expression of puzzlement swept over her face as she absorbed what I’d just said. She paled and looked back up at the Zeppelin, just as we heard another explosion a few streets away.
“Over there,” I shouted as I pointed towards an opening in the street. “Most people are heading that way.”
We turned to follow them and almost tripped over a little boy crying uncontrollably as he lay sprawled on the road.
Mildred immediately dropped to her knees, scooped him up into her arms, and was back on her feet in less time than it took to turn around. “Hey, what’s all them tears for?" she asked as she hugged him to her chest. “Have you lost your mum?”
With tears creating gullies down his dusty face, he nodded. Soft whimpers replaced the tears as he rubbed his swollen eyes with small, dirty fists, before wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He looked so scared, and who could blame him? With the nightmare of dead, mutilated bodies, as well as hearing screams of terror, it must have traumatised him, especially since his mother was nowhere to be seen.
I could only hope that, in the mayhem surrounding everyone, he’d somehow been separated from her, and she wasn’t one of the dead and injured people scattered about. It went without saying, no mother would willingly abandon her child at a time like this.
Just then, the blast from another bomb somewhere nearby knocked Mildred to the ground. She was quick to protect the little boy’s body from being squashed beneath her by holding his head and then rolling over onto her side as the next onslaught began.
“You have to get up, Mildred! There’s an arrow pointing to Kings Cross underground over there, and you should be safe if we can reach it in time. Quick!”
Mildred ducked and dived as she tried to dodge the relentless onslaught of shrapnel created by the explosions erupting around us. Although I knew I was safe in my present invisible state, Mildred definitely wasn’t, and I could only hope that the powers that be were watching over her.
When we reached the entrance to the station, I followed Mildred down the endless steps that took us to what I hoped would be safety. When we eventually arrived at the bottom, the scene that met us was one of confusion and desolation.
There were so many people down here on both of the narrow platforms, some of them probably left their vulnerable homes to seek protection from the deadly downpour of bombs above. Everyone was cramped together in the gas-lit tomb that had become their refuge. Many of them were praying, the fear of the menacing threat above clearly portrayed on their faces.
When Mildred looked as if she was going to speak to me again, I jumped in and stopped her. “People will think you’re talking to yourself, so be careful.”
There were so many people already in the underground, it was impossible to move any further while inside here. Mildred turned her head towards me with slow stilted movements as if she was looking around. “Let’s hope his mum’s here,” she said, pulling the small lad closer into her chest.
I nodded a silent response, but I doubted she was. Cramped though it was, we were all fairly visible to each other, and I couldn't see any anxious mothers searching for a child.
We listened for at least two hours to the constant onslaught going on above. I remembered seeing photos of how London looked after a bombing like this. The devastation was awful.
The silence inside the underground tube station was only broken by a few low, intermittent voices trying to comfort and allay the fears of those nearby, and then quietness returned again before a child would cry and someone would hush and gently soothe them.
Children screamed out in terror when we were plunged into total darkness. It wasn't only the children who were frightened as I heard a few nervous swear words coming from adults sitting nearby.
“What’s happened?” Mildred asked the lady sitting next to her.
“The gas pipes must’ve bin ‘it again,” the woman replied. “Ain’t the first time, either. Bleedin’ war … it were s’posed t’ ‘ave bin over in a few weeks, they told us. ‘Ere we are in 1916, and still no signs of it endin’ any time soon. An’ now we ain’t got any gas t’ cook on ... not that it'll matter if we ain't got ‘ouses t’ go back t'.”
An unexpected stillness swept along the tunnel, which was as eerie as the overhead explosions had been terrifying. But at least the bombing appeared to have stopped. No one moved, as all were wary of the possible consequences. A few discerning people had lit candles when we heard a sound like someone in heavy boots coming down the steps. Everyone’s eyes were focused on the exit, and the relief of seeing a policeman emerge with a large gas lamp to tell them it was safe to come out had everyone cheering.
Being almost the last ones in, Mildred and I were able to stand at the opening as the rest followed us out into the street. We hoped the little boy might spot his mother, or she would spot him, but when the last person trailed by, we accepted that she wasn’t there. We were about to give up hope when the boy twisted in Mildred’s arms to look at a young girl coming towards us, and his face lit up. When she called his name, it was impossible not to hear the obvious relief in her voice.
“Where yeh bin, Jimmy? I’ve been lookin’ all over fer yeh.” She looked at Mildred before she reached out for the boy. “Yeh can ‘and ‘im over now,” she told us. “E’s me bruvva.”
Jimmy reached out for his sister, and Mildred gave him back and smiled warmly. “Is your mother here, as well?” she asked. “Oh, I’m Mildred, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Me name's Edie, and I dunno where me mam is. She were wiv me, an’ then she weren’t. Now I’ve got our Jimmy back, I can go lookin’ fer ‘er.” She started to move off, but stopped and looked back at Mildred. “Fanks fer mindin’ me bruvva, missis.” And with that, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.
The firemen were already tackling the fires with their hoses by the time we’d left the underground station. Several people were shouting out names, scurrying around, digging and moving rubble with their bare hands as they tried to get to people who were buried alive. There were dead and injured all over the place, and men and women could be seen openly crying when they found the people they were looking for—some with relief, but others in torment at finding their loved ones dead.
The Red Cross ambulances had arrived, and the badly injured were carried over to them on stretchers, while others with minor injuries were being attended to at the scene. The dead were taken away in vans to the mortuary, where I imagined family members would later come to identify them, if they could.
Mildred went to see if she could assist in any way, and I followed, feeling totally useless. One of the doctors smiled warmly at her offer of help, and told her they were crying out for volunteers at the hospital. As soon as she was given directions, she shot me a glance that indicated I should follow.
The hospital wasn’t far from the underground, and we could see how desperate the staff were as soon as we arrived. The doctor hadn’t exaggerated the need for help, and Mildred was soon put to work cleaning wounds and applying bandages.
The wards were full to overflowing, and makeshift beds were in the aisles and corridors. Patients crying in pain, while some with missing limbs were being treated on the spot. With operating theatres already filled, surgeons were having to work wherever they could.
I wandered around, wishing I could do something. Why was I here? It was so frustrating that I couldn't help in any way.
I’d just decided to go back and see what Mildred was doing, when I saw a familiar face. What on earth was she doing here? She looked to be as disorientated as I was, and she was about to turn the corner when I called out without even thinking. “Gladys ... Is that you?”
When she turned and stared in my direction, she looked shocked to see me. I, in turn, was equally shocked that she could.
“Veronica? Oh, my dear!” she gasped. “If you can see me, you must be dead as well....”
Continued....
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | This is written in UK English. Although WW1 and the Suffragettes were real events, my story and the characters are totally fiction. Thank you so much for reading this part, if you come across any errors, I would be very grateful if you would point them out to me. Thank you! |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Part 12
Eric and Herbie watched as the spaceship touched down on Drozig’s planet. The excitement from the crew was electrifying. It might only be a short while in this planet’s time, but for the aliens on board the spaceship they had been away from home for many human lifetimes.
Drozig turned to Eric and Herbie. “Come, my people are expecting you.”
Eric’s heart skipped a beat; he really wasn’t sure about this. How will I get home if Drozig doesn’t keep his promise? He could have said it just to get my permission to use that gizmo. He looked over at the aliens making their way off the spaceship. They’re all right, they’ve come home. Suppose I have to stay here for ever? I haven’t even got my toothbrush! Mum won’t be happy, she likes to know where I am all the time. I wonder if they have telephones here.
He looked over at where he’d kept his BMX and went to get it. Herbie flew over and sat in his usual place on the handlebars, and both he and Eric held on tight. If they come near my bike, there’ll be big trouble!
All the aliens were moving along the corridors to the exit, some were even running. Zig was sitting on Drozig’s shoulders, he would be seeing his mother again and was bouncing around impatiently.
How come he’s still only a baby and he’s been on my planet for all those years? He’s hundreds of years older than me!
Drozig turned around and smiled at him We don’t age when we leave our planet, Eric. We stay exactly the same no matter how long we are gone. I won’t break my promise, lad, you’ll be going home soon.
Eric frowned, it still made him jump when Drozig spoke to him inside his head. I’d better be careful what I’m thinking about. A roar of laughter startled him again and he glanced over at Drozig, who was looking at him, and now laughing openly.
All thoughts stopped as he looked over to see the exit looming nearer. His tummy started doing flip-flops. “Don’t you go flying off, Herbie, do you hear? I want you to stay close to me.”
Herbie tightened his grip on the handlebars and turned his rotating eyes towards Eric. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere without you—or our bike.”
And then they were there, standing in the exit looking rather nervously out. Eric’s fingers squeezed the handlebars of his bike so tight, anyone would think he believed it would disappear if he let go.
Drozig spread his arms out wide as he showed Eric the crowd and smiled. “You are heroes,’ he told Eric and Herbie as they slowly stepped out onto the ramp that led down to the ground. “They are here to welcome you.” The area was crowded with aliens of all sizes, and when Eric stopped to look at them, they all cheered and waved. “That’s for you.” Drozig grinned. “There will be a party in your honour tonight for bringing us home. We wouldn’t be here without your permission to use the gizmo.”
A party! Eric liked parties. Perhaps this will be okay after all. He smiled at the aliens and gave a little wave back.
“Would you be happier if they changed their shape into your human likeness?” Drozig put his hand on Eric’s shoulder as he looked down at him. “They would be happy to do so.”
Eric thought about it. “No, you are what you are, and I am me. I couldn’t change, so now I know you better you shouldn’t have to either. You can be yourself too … if you’d like.”
The cheering got louder. “They heard you, and are pleased.” Drozig turned and took Zig off his shoulders, who went straight over to Eric and Herbie and touched his head and bowed again.
“Thank you, Eric and Herbie.” He reached out and touched Eric’s arm. “Would you like to meet my mother?”
“Yes, I would.” He looked at Herbie and then back at Zig. “I would also like it if you would be your true self,” he told him.
Zig smiled, and Eric watched as Zig became an alien again.
“Awesome!” I wonder what my friends would say if I could do that. A big smile spread over his face. Chloe would flip her lid.
A noise distracted the two boys and they turned to see what was going on. The crowd of aliens had parted, leaving an aisle through the middle. Eric’s eyes moved up to the end and took a step back. “What’s THAT?”
Continued….
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of Chapter 11
The wards were full to overflowing, and makeshift beds were in the aisles and corridors. Patients crying in pain, while some with missing limbs were being treated on the spot. With operating theatres already filled, surgeons were having to work wherever they could.
I wandered around, wishing I could do something. Why was I here? It was so frustrating that I couldn't help in any way.
I’d just decided to go back and see what Mildred was doing, when I saw a familiar face. What on earth was she doing here? She looked to be as disorientated as I was, and she was about to turn the corner when I called out without even thinking. “Gladys ... Is that you?”
When she turned and stared in my direction, she looked shocked to see me. I, in turn, was equally shocked that she could.
“Veronica? Oh, my dear!” she gasped. “If you can see me, you must be dead as well....”
Chapter 12
'You’re dead? But what happened to you?’
Gladys walked up to me with that same uncertain smile I remembered when I saw her confronted by her louse of a husband. ‘I could ask you the same question. I trust your demise happened some time ago, because you haven't aged a day since I last saw you.’
My mind did a mental somersault. I met Gladys in 1905, and it now must be at least 1915 if the First World War had started and Zeppelins were bombing London. How can I explain the way I looked, or what I was wearing for that matter?
I left my time just as James and I were going to bed, and my pink nighty must have looked very strange to someone who'd lived in the Edwardian era. Trying to explain that I was a time traveller from the future seemed far too complicated, so I just agreed with her. ‘Yes, it must be a good ten years ago that I was struck down with pneumonia...’
Gladys looked me up and down before smiling, and I giggled when she raised an eyebrow. ‘I'm not surprised if you were wearing flimsy clothing like that,’ she said. ‘It makes me feel cold just to look at you!’
The irony of the conversation nearly made me burst out laughing, but the look on her face stopped me. ‘And what about you?’ I asked. ‘If it wasn’t anything to do with the war, how did you die?’
Her expression changed from amusement to bitterness before she answered. ‘I died in 1913. I’m sure it won’t surprise you to know that is was at the hands of my husband, not that anyone will ever find out. He made sure it looked like an accident.’
I was just about to ask how her horrible husband had killed her, when a man with a missing arm and blood splattered bandages came up to me. ‘Yer a sight for sore eyes, Missus,’ he announced with a suggestive wink before staggering past me.
‘What!’
Gladys suppressed a laugh when she saw the expression on my face. ‘Don't mind Cecil. In the six months he's been roaming this place since his death, he's been annoying most of the female ghosts. We've all learnt to ignore him.’
’You mean we're not the only ones...?’
Gladys looked at me as though I was stupid. ‘Well, of course not. It is a hospital after all. There are people dying here all the time!’
‘But don't they pass over? … I mean, why are they still here?’
Her eyes held a hint of suspicion as she stared at me. ‘You should know the reason as much as everyone else. We only stay here if we have unfinished business, or the tie is stronger than the light. I'm here to watch over my son. What's your reason?’
Oh, God … what can I say? This is a nightmare!
I decided to ignore the question, and in doing so, hopefully, buy myself some time. ‘Why are you watching over your son here at the hospital… is he injured?’
Cecil chose that moment to lurch his way back down the corridor and pass right through me, which was an experience I will never forget. I'd had enough, and told Gladys as much. She, in turn, pointed towards the entrance to a ward at the end of the corridor where I had left Mildred diligently assisting a doctor by bandaging the endless patients being brought in as a result of the bombings.
‘Tommy is a doctor here. When I died, he had only completed two years of his training in college. He had one more year to do, so I decided to stay here until I knew he was safely out of Charles’s clutches. I didn’t want what happened to me to happen to him, as well. Then the war started, and I worried he would be killed—so I'm here just in case … I'm sure you understand,’ she added with a nervous smile.
‘Does Tommy know what happened to you?’
She shook her head with a resigned expression. ‘No, I think he accepts what Charles told the police. If he doesn’t, then to my knowledge, he hasn’t expressed his suspicions to anyone. I do know one thing, he's a wonderful doctor and I’m so proud of him, I know he will make his mark on the world.
Here, let me show you.’
Gladys strode off down the corridor, her shoulders straight, and I followed, my mind in chaos....
When we reached the ward, the scene that met us was even worse than when Mildred and I first arrived at the hospital. She was nowhere to be seen, and relief washed over me. It would be awkward if she saw me and rushed over. I must keep my eyes peeled and warn her.
Due to the carnage created by the Zeppelin bombings, stretchers were continuing to arrive, and finding beds for the injured looked to be nigh on impossible. I wondered how many doctors there were to treat them all, and the few nurses I could see had to be dependent on any help they could get.
The more I saw, the more frustrated I became that I couldn’t help. I was about to turn back when Gladys pointed to the corner of the ward with a proud smile. ‘There he is!’
My eyes followed the direction of her finger, and I could understand her pride. Although I hadn't seen Tommy for about eleven years, I recognised him immediately. He had matured into a tall, attractive man with broad shoulders and a shock of auburn hair, which, at this moment in time, was matted to his brow as he concentrated on stemming the flow of blood from a patient. As we went nearer, I could see the compassion in his eyes, and hear the soothing tone of his voice. It reminded me so much of James, that I stopped, rooted to the spot in awe.
When I looked back at Gladys, her eyes were filled with tears, and I suddenly realised, mine were too. Dumbstruck by what we were witnessing, we had no choice but to watch, shoulder to shoulder, as he moved around the ward giving whatever medical assistance he could. Hands reached out to him begging for help, and he kept calm and did what he could in a precise and measured way.
After a few minutes, I saw Mildred enter the ward from the other end and move determinedly over to a lady sitting on the edge of a bed. What grabbed my attention more were the two children beside her. It was Edie and Jimmy! I was so pleased they’d found their mother. When I turned back to Gladys, I silently cringed because she had seen Mildred as well.
‘Isn’t that your friend, Mildred, the one who was arrested at the same time as me in 1913? A friend told me she’d escaped but they never found her. Is that because she's dead, too?’
Pretending I’d died was one thing, but I knew I wouldn't get away with it regarding Mildred. She couldn't be carrying the huge pile of bandages in her arms if she wasn't alive and kicking, and every human being in the ward seemed to acknowledge her presence as she passed them by.
‘Eh, I think I'd better explain,’ I grovelled as I turned towards Gladys with a guilty grimace....
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading my story. If you find any errors, please let me know, I will be so grateful. This is written in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of Chapter 12
“Isn't that your friend, Mildred, the one who was arrested at the same time as me in 1913? I was told she escaped but was never found. Is that because she's dead, too?”
Pretending I was dead was one thing, but I knew I wouldn't get away with it regarding Mildred. It was obvious she couldn't be carrying the huge pile of bandages she had in her arms if she wasn't alive and kicking, and every human being in the ward seemed to acknowledge her presence as she passed them by.
“Eh, I think I'd better explain,” I grovelled as I turned towards Gladys with a guilty expression....
Chapter 13
What can I tell her? I don't even know where to start.
In an effort to stall yet again, I looked across at Mildred chatting away to Jimmy and Edie’s mother, and I smiled when I heard the intermittent laughter coming from her and the children. A few seconds later, reality brought me back to my senses, and I sighed before I reluctantly turned my attention back to Gladys. ‘It’s a complicated story, and you might find it difficult to believe—’
‘Comin' through, ladies.’ Cecil paused long enough to run his eyes up and down my body and give me another lecherous grin.
I cringed and glared angrily at the obnoxious ghost. ‘For goodness sake–go and annoy the devil, you dirty old pervert!’ Frustrated, I turned to Gladys. ‘I can’t explain anything with this nonsense going on. Is there some place we can go where we won’t be interrupted by a sex maniac?’ I threw another furious glare in Cecil’s direction.
‘Oow! Temper, temper. Got yer knickers in a twist, ‘ave yeh? … ‘Course, that’s if yeh’ve got any on!’ Cecil howled with laughter as he sashayed off all the way out of the ward.
I stared after him, and then looked at Gladys who was now doubled over with the giggles. I shook my head, but couldn’t help chuckling, too.
‘Why don’t we go back to the house?’ she suggested between her giggles.
I couldn’t wait to get away from the hospital, so let out a sigh of relief. It was bad enough having to watch the endless casualties being treated, without Cecil and his ridiculous antics cutting in all the time.
‘That’s a good idea, but I’ll have to let Mildred know where I’m going,’ I told her. I knew that would add more fuel for her to speculate upon, but it couldn’t be helped. I’ve got to tell her the truth of the matter now, anyway. ‘I won’t be a moment,’ I added, and without waiting for a reaction, I marched quickly over to Mildred and stood at her side so she could hear me.
‘It’s lovely to know Edie found their mother, isn’t it? I really thought something awful had happened to her. At least, in this day of tragedy, we’ve had one piece of good news. Believe it or not, I came across Gladys,’ I continued as I turned to point her out. ‘We’re going back to her house for a chat.’
Unable to speak without looking as though she was talking to herself, she grunted something that sounded like, ‘Is she okay?’
‘No,’ I replied with a shake of my head. ‘She died just after we returned the last time to 1996. She thinks I’m dead as well because I can see her, and I’ve just confused her further when I unwittingly implied you could see me as well, so I’m going to try and explain what’s going on.’
Mildred’s face paled at the news, and her eyes immediately focused on Gladys. When she turned back to Edie and Jimmy’s mother, she tried to put a bright smile on her face to cover her dismay.
‘I’d best be gettin’ me bandages over t’ those folks that’ll be needin’ them. If you’re still here when I’m done, I’ll come over for a chat.’ She bent over and gave Edie a kiss on her cheek, and turned to Jimmy, who ducked. Sensing his embarrassment, Mildred laughed as she ruffled his hair with her free hand instead.
‘How did you find her?’ she asked through clenched teeth as we walked back to where Gladys was patiently waiting.
‘She was wandering about in the corridor, and she told me she’s been here watching over Tommy since he qualified as a doctor. Look, that’s him over there.’
Mildred strained her neck to look over the heads of everyone blocking the view between her and Tommy. When she spotted him, she turned to me with her brows raised and her eyes wide. ‘Lordy! I’d best be goin’ over and givin’ him a hand!’ she declared mischievously as she turned back for another look.
Her reaction made me laugh out loud. ‘Mildred! Behave yourself! Remember your age—he’s just a lad.’
Mildred was having none of it. ‘I don’t think so,’ she replied. ‘The man I’m lookin’ at is definitely not ‘just a lad’ in my books! Anyways, what do you mean, remember me age? Looks t’ me our ages are near enough the same now.’
It was then it hit me. I’d never thought about it before, but Mildred hadn’t aged a day since she came back to life. She looked just the same today as she did when she materialised beside me at her graveside. How could that be?
I was just about to ask her if she knew her actual age, when I realised we’d reached Gladys.
‘I think I’ll go over there so I can dress that man’s wound while he’s out of it,’ Mildred said out loud, prior to shooting me a look and making her way over to him. She then laid the bandages on the side of the bed and began cleaning the blood from the huge gash in the man’s arm. ‘I’m sorry you’re no longer with us in the livin’ world, Gladys,’ she eventually said when she looked up. ‘I have t’ say it were a shock t’ find out you’d passed away.’
Gladys stared back at Mildred, disbelief written all over her face. ‘Not as much as the shock you’ve given me! I don’t understand how you can see me and Veronica if you’re not dead as well.’
Mildred shot me a glance that implied she had no idea what to say, so I intervened and turned back to Gladys with an apologetic smile. ‘I was telling her we’re going back to your house, so I can explain everything when we get there. We can all catch up later when you can be spared from here, Mildred.’ I looked around at all the people still waiting to be treated. ‘It looks like you’ll be needed for quite a while. Will you be alright?’
Mildred nodded. ‘Yes. You get goin’. There’s someone here I’m wantin’ t’ meet!’ She gave me a cheeky wink and her face lit up with a wicked grin.
There was absolutely nothing I could say to her in front of the already confused Gladys, so I narrowed my eyes into a scowl, which only served to make Mildred giggle like an adolescent schoolgirl….
It felt really strange being back in Gladys' house, especially as she was now a ghost, and I was invisible. Nothing had changed, and the austere portraits of Charles' naval ancestors still dominated the walls, their cold eyes seemingly following you with haughty, disapproving stares.
‘It must be hard for you to come back here, Gladys,’ I said once we reached the drawing room after we’d silently passed through the closed door.
‘Not really,’ she replied with a shake of her head. ‘I spent a lot of time here watching over Tommy after I died, and sometimes, when there was nobody else in the house, it was as though I was still alive. Occasionally, after I'd sat in here for several hours waiting for Tommy to come home, I wondered if I'd imagined the whole thing, and Charles and I would be sitting down to dinner when he returned home.’
I could just imagine her doing exactly that. I once read that a lot of ghosts only remained in a place they were familiar with because they didn't realise they’d died, so what she said made sense.
‘Don't you hate him for what he did? I know I would.’
Her lips creased together in a hard line before she replied. ‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘But what if Charles remarries and has more children? He might disinherit Tommy if he did.’
She burst out laughing. ‘Charles doesn't need a wife … he's married to the navy. He spends every waking moment making plans to try and end the war using the British fleet. Since I died he only comes back here to put proposals together. I wouldn't doubt he'll find a way to convince the Admiral to listen to him eventually.’
‘What do you mean?’
Gladys waved a dismissive hand in the direction of a desk in the corner. ‘His ideas regarding a naval attack on Germany. He spends hours poring over maps and making notes, although I'm not sure why he has to do it here.’
I was about to go and have a look for myself, when I felt the familiar tingling that usually preceded the return to my own time. Remembering my last departure from 1996, when James and I were about to go to bed, I looked forward to being back in his arms.
The reality couldn't be further from the truth. I found myself lying on the floor in a moonlit room, and James was nowhere to be seen….
Continued….
Characters
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading my book. This is written in UK English. If you find any errors, I would be very grateful if you would point them out to me. Thank you! |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Short synopsis
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys, is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit. Is it for Gladys and her son that Veronica and Mildred have been taken back to the early 20th century? Only time will tell.
End of Chap 13
Gladys waved a dismissive hand in the direction of a desk in the corner. “His ideas regarding a naval attack on Germany. He spends hours *poring over maps and making notes, although I'm not sure why he has to do it here.”
I was about to go and have a look for myself, when I felt the familiar tingling that usually preceded the return to my own time. Remembering my last departure from 1996, when James and I were about to go to bed, I looked forward to being back in his arms.
The reality couldn't be further from the truth. I found myself lying on the floor in a moonlit room, and James was nowhere to be seen....
Chapter 14
I could feel my heart as it pounded painfully against my ribs, and decided to lie quietly on the floor for a few minutes until I’d worked out what had just happened. I knew I’d time-travelled again, but I had no idea where to.
After I stood up, I gingerly felt around to find a light switch, and let out a sigh of relief when I found one next to a door frame and flicked it on. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when I realised I was in Mrs Humphries' bedroom in the cottage, but in what year?
James and I had moved into it after we got married, and there was no evidence of the pretty chintz curtains and brass bed we had lovingly chosen, so I must have been sent back to a time before that. Was Mrs Humphries still alive? That question was answered when I went to her wardrobe and looked inside. All that remained was the coat hangers, so I could only assume it was after 1985, the year that she'd died.
But why hadn’t I been sent back to my own time? I'd time-travelled four times in the last few days, but whoever decided these things always brought me back to the exact moment I'd left, something both James and I were grateful for because it didn't cause the children any distress if they found me missing. The more I thought about it, the more confused I felt. Surely, there's nothing here that could give me a clue as to why I’d been sent back to the early twentieth century with Mildred. This is really weird!
Although I was disorientated, I at least felt some comfort at being back at the cottage. Knowing Mildred would be here, albeit as her older self, made me feel less frightened, and I was just about to go to her room when I stopped in my tracks. She'll probably be asleep, so it would probably be better to leave it till the morning.
With that thought in mind, I tiptoed across the corridor to the bedroom I had when I moved in with Mildred after Mrs Humphries died. Again, everything was as I remembered, and the ornaments and books I had brought from my flat were still in place, as was the pretty, floral, duck down quilt my mother had given me before she died.
Suddenly, all I wanted to do was sleep, and I crawled under it and buried my nose in the lavender scented fabric before closing my eyes. The mystery of what year it was, and why I had been sent here, could wait until the morning….
It took me a while to get my bearings when I woke up. As memories of the previous night filtered into my brain, I sat bolt upright before jumping out of bed. Knowing what an early riser she was, I decided to go straight to the kitchen to find Mildred after I'd been to the antiquated bathroom at the end of the hall. That, too, brought back memories, especially when I remembered how much fun James and I had when we bought a new suite and put in a shower.
“Don't worry,” I joked out loud after I'd splashed my face with some cold water. “You're going to be a very pretty bathroom by the time we've finished with you in a year or two’s time!”
I smiled when I walked into the kitchen and saw the table Mildred liked to use as her pastry, come everything, board, although she was nowhere to be seen. The range I’d bought a little while after I’d moved in stood solidly in the corner. So many lovely memories were made in this room. I felt a lump in my throat and tried hard to swallow to reduce the stress I was under. No time for that, my girl. Okay, let’s see if the drawers will reveal anything that might tell me the exact year this is.
I frowned. This is the cutlery I bought … let me see now … it has to be at least three years after I married James.
Now in a panic, I opened the cupboards, which, thankfully, were full with the usual things, but then I spotted the new freezer I’d bought about four years ago…. No, that can’t be right.
I rushed into the sitting room to see what I'd find there, when I saw the tapestry cushion I’d worked on while I was pregnant with Michael. I felt a sense of relief. I picked it up from the armchair, and sunk my face into it before hugging it against my chest. This really isn’t right! The cottage is a contradiction of times. What the hell’s going on?
The thunderous pounding in my ears forced me to get a grip. I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, repeating it a few times. That’s it, nice and easy, Veronica, breathe…. “There has to be a rational explanation. Just what it is, though, I haven’t a clue.”
I held the cushion at arm's-length and stared at it. I'd had the printed tapestry canvas for years before I'd found the time to complete it. Was my memory playing games with me, and I actually completed it before I thought?
My mind was certainly throwing out all sorts of rubbish as I tried to come up with something logical. If I could just speak to Mildred and find out what year this is, perhaps then it might throw some light on the situation.
I stood up and made my way back to the kitchen in the hope that Mildred would be there, and the mystery would be solved, but she still hadn't come down for breakfast. But why? For as long as I could remember, Mildred had always been the first one down to the kitchen every morning, and the kettle was always close to the boil. Not today, though. I lifted it up and filled it from the tap before I put it on the stove. If Mildred was having a lie-in, then she would get a nice surprise when she came down.
Now on autopilot, I went to the cupboard and mindlessly took down two of Mrs Humphries' bone-china cups, before I went to the fridge to fetch the milk. As I heated the teapot, my mind carried on drifting back to the numerous chats I’d had with Mildred in this very room. The picture of her holding her cup between both hands, her eyes observing me over the rim, was one that was etched clearly in my mind.
“Oh Lordy, Miss Veronica, you must’ve read me thoughts and put the kettle on as I was comin’ down the lane. Mmm, it's good t' take the weight off my poor aching feet."
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Mildred's voice, and when I spun around, there she was, large as life, sitting at the table with one foot on her knee as she massaged her toes. Dear, grey-haired Mildred, with all her beautiful laughter-lines covering her face. Seeing her as she used to be made me feel so emotional, my eyes started to fill.
“Hey! What’s with the tears?” She quickly stood up and came towards me, then stopped as her eyes looked me up and down. “And, what are you doin’ in that pink nightie? … I've never seen you wearin' anythin’ like that before.”
I followed her gaze and realised I was still wearing the skimpy nightie I had on when James and I were going to bed right before I last time-travelled.
That must mean that I have been returned to 1996, and the reality of what that implied made the room spin before I crashed to the floor....
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette—murdered and back as a ghost
Tommy – Gladys’ son -- 30-year-old doctor
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Cecil – Saucy ghost in WW1
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading this chapter. If you find any errors, I'm always very grateful to have them pointed out. Thank you in advance. :)) This is written in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 14
“Hey! What’s with the tears?” Mildred quickly stood up and came towards me, then stopped as her eyes looked me up and down. “And, what are you doin’ in that pink nightie? … I've never seen you wearin' anythin’ like that before.”
I followed her gaze and acknowledged for the first time since I arrived back at the cottage, that I was still wearing the skimpy nightie I had on when James and I were going to bed just before Mildred and I time-travelled again.
Now I knew what year it was, and the reality of what that implied, the room began to spin around me before I crashed to the floor.…
Chapter 15
Somewhere in the distance I heard a gentle voice calling my name and pleading with me to open my eyes. The urgency in the tone made me want to slip deeper into my safe cocoon. I really didn’t want to respond. What had frightened me so much was the terror of being brought back into an existence that wasn't my own anymore.
Still, the voice persisted. “Miss Veronica, please open your eyes—you’re scaring me.”
Mildred? Why was I scaring her?
“Oh, Lordy, Lordy!” she gasped when she saw my eyelids flicker and open. “What happened—are you ill?”
One look at Mildred’s worried face, and it all came flooding back. I struggled to sit up and looked around the kitchen. “Oh, Mildred, what’s going on?”
“You fainted … clean passed out, you did. That’s what happened! Here, let’s get you up and on a chair,” she urged as she took my arm and helped me up off the floor. “There you go. Now, let’s be gettin’ that cuppa. I think we both need it.” She lowered herself down to look me in the eyes again. “How are you feeling now? You scared me half t’ death!”
I gave her a shaky smile and let her carry on making the tea while I tried to collect my thoughts. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my body as the cold filtered through to my bones.
This nightdress wasn’t intended to be worn in a draughty old cottage without central heating. I lifted the edge of the fine silk negligée that had been a Christmas present from James, then frowned. None of this was making any sense at all. If James bought it for me, then he must exist … and if he exists, then our children must as well….
“Mildred, this is going to sound silly, but, what year is this?”
She’d poured our tea into the cups and was bringing them to the table. “What year is it?” Her whole face registered her bewilderment as she passed me my cup before sitting down. “Are you sure you’re all right? It’s 1996, of course.”
I felt the bile rise from my stomach as my fears suddenly hit me again. “What about James?” I asked in a pathetic whisper.
“James who?”
“James, my hus….”
The realisation that she didn't have a clue as to who I was referring to made the words stick in my throat. Had James really never existed as far as she was concerned?
After taking a deep breath, I looked back at her and tried to stay calm. “Why are you wearing brown overalls, Mildred … and what were you doing walking down the lane at this ungodly hour of the morning?”
“You’re really worryin’ me now. Did you hit your head when you fainted? Let me take a look.”
“NO! Just answer the bloody question!”
When Mildred flinched and backed away, guilt immediately washed over me. “I’m so sorry for barking at you, Mildred, but everything is so strange at the moment. Just answer my question, will you?”
“Oh, Miss Veronica,” Mildred cooed, sounding more like my mother than my best friend. “I think you definitely did have a bang t' your head, because you’re not makin’ any sense at all. You was fine when I went off t’ me shift at the factory last night. What's happened t’ bring this on?”
“What factory? You're seventy-two years old, Mildred, why would you be working in a factory?”
Again, she looked at me as though I’d lost my marbles. “For the same reason you're workin’ … tis the only way we's gonna keep this roof over our heads.”
“But we have plenty of money! James has his job at the hospital, and...”
As the words died in my mouth, I let out a moan that had Mildred rushing over and cradling me in her arms. “Who is this James you keep talkin' about? It's just bin you an’ me since Mrs Humphries passed. Is he someone you've met recently?”
I felt totally deflated as I realised I'd been fooling myself when I thought James’ gift meant he existed. Everything she’d said meant history had indeed changed.
After downing her tea, Mildred asked me if I was feeling better, and I decided to nod my head to put her mind at rest. I could see how tired she was, and I felt guilty for keeping her up after what had obviously been a long night. I would find out more about why she thought she had to work when she woke up.
While she was asleep, I went around the cottage, room by room, trying to understand what was going on. If this was 1996, why was everything so different? Had I done something during my time-travelling to change the future? Dear God. If that was the case … No, it couldn’t be … could it? That would be too much to bear, but I couldn't come up with any other logical explanation.
After I'd miserably looked up in the attic, I accepted I'd have to wait until I could speak to Mildred before trying to work out what had actually happened. I folded my arms against the chill and decided to go and have a hot shower and get dressed.
I groaned when I walked into the bathroom. What was I thinking! There was no shower, and the antiquated bath didn’t look that inviting either, so I decided to make do with a strip wash.
When I went back to my bedroom, the wardrobe yielded yet another surprise. There were clothes hanging up that I didn’t recognise. Likewise, the shoes neatly arranged at the bottom were different to any I owned in my time. That thought made me sarcastically laugh out loud. What was my time...?
I’d just finished tidying the kitchen when Mildred came down the stairs, and I plastered a smile on my face that belied the misery I felt inside. “Did you sleep well?” I asked when I noticed she still looked worn out.
She walked over to the kettle and went to fill it. “It don’t feel right sleeping when it’s light outside. Reckon I’ll never get used t' it.”
Her answer gave me the perfect opportunity to ask one of the questions that had been plaguing me all day.
“I still don't understand why you're working in a factory, Mildred. You've had your pension since you were sixty. Isn’t that enough to keep you?”
She put the kettle on the range and turned to give me another of her confused looks. “I couldn’t afford one of them fancy private pensions, Miss Veronica. You know that, especially since they introduced them bloomin’ awful habitation taxes.”
What the hell was she talking about? All women get their state pensions when they’re sixty, just as men get theirs at sixty-five. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe Mildred was suffering from some kind of dementia, and I put my own anguish aside for a moment to give her a hug. “It's okay, Mildred, I'll look after you. Believe me, you don't have to work at a factory.”
It was her turn to look baffled when she stepped back from my embrace. “Oh, Lordy, wouldn’t that be good? I wish that were the case, but you know as well as I do that it takes both of us workin’ t’ keep this place goin'.”
I was beginning to wonder if it was me who’d totally lost the plot. There was no doubt that Mildred believed she still had to work, and if she worked night shifts at a factory, she was obviously capable of doing so, but why?
“How long have you worked at the factory, Mildred?”
Her face scrunched up for a moment before she answered. "You knows how long. After Mrs Humphries died, it was the only way I could stay here. I weren't goin’ int' one of them state communes … I'd rather hang up me clogs and die!”
I tried to contain my frustration, but after a couple of seconds, I gripped her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “You don't have to work, Mildred. You have a state pension that will keep you till the day you die.”
“Yeah, right … In me dreams.”
I wished I could remember historical dates more accurately, but I knew that pensions were introduced in the early part of the century, so pointed that fact out to Mildred.
“That might well have been the case back in the good ol’ days, and if we hadn't lost the war, then pensions for people my age might still exist.”
“NO, Mildred! We won both the wars. You—”
“What do you mean, both the wars?”
“The First and Second World Wars … what else could I mean?”
Mildred sat back down in her chair with a shake of her head. When she looked back at me, I could see from her expression that she thought I’d gone completely bonkers.
“But we’s only had one war, Miss Veronica, an’ I'm sure if we'd won it, things would be a lot different....”
Continued....
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
The next chapter is now posted.
| Author Notes |
Thank you so much for reading my story. If you find any errors, I will be most grateful if you would let me know. This is written in UK English. xxx
|
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of Part 15
“NO, Mildred! We won both the wars. You—”
“What do you mean, both the wars?”
“The First and Second World Wars … what else could I mean?”
Mildred sat back down in her chair with a shake of her head. When she looked back at me, I could see from her expression that she thought I’d gone completely bonkers.
“But we’s only had one war, Miss Veronica, an’ I'm sure if we'd won it, things would be a lot different....”
Chapter 16
As her words sank into my already confused brain, the significance of what she was saying rendered me speechless. I stared down at my cup as tears tumbled over my cheeks. Within seconds, Mildred had moved her chair next to mine and taken hold of my hand.
“Oh, Miss Veronica … I don't knows what's goin' on in that head of yours, but I haven't seen you like this before. You and me's been through so much t’gether tryin' t' hang on t' this place … surely you haven't forgotten?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. How could I put into words that this reality wasn’t mine, and never could be, without James and our children in it? That history had inexplicably changed, and the world as she knew it was so drastically different from mine. How could I tell her all that without confusing her further … unless…?
“Mildred, would you bear with me a while longer? I need to get things straight in my mind, and to do so, I have to ask you some more questions that will sound as strange as the others did.” I paused as I looked her in the eyes and reached out for her other hand. “Can you tell me what you remember about our first meeting?”
Her gaze held mine unwaveringly, as though looking away might break something precious. “As you knows, I weren't happy the day you turned up on the doorstep after Mrs Humphries died. I were expecting you, of course, but that didn't make lettin' you in any easier.”
“Go on...”
She puffed out her cheeks before taking a deep breath. “Well, I knew Mrs Humphries hadn't made a will, so I was expectin' the government t’ claim the cottage sooner or later. When you arrived with them state ownership papers … acquisi… somethin’ or other, I think you called them, I wanted t' slap yer face with them!”
“But why would I be delivering any kind of … acquisition order?”
Her eyes rolled heavenwards, but seeing I was serious, she eventually answered me as though it was me suffering memory loss. “Cos that were your job. If you hadn’t kept saying how sorry you were, I wouldn't have given you the time of day.”
At last she'd said something I could identify with. I had been full of remorse the first time I knocked on the cottage door, but for completely different reasons. I cringed as I remembered how I'd helped con Mrs Humphries out of her home on behalf of my horrible boss, who wanted to knock it down and turn it into part of his health spa. Contacting her greedy children had sealed the deal. That was something I regretted deeply after I'd time-travelled back to the early years of Mrs Humphries' existence, and discovered how badly she'd been treated by her controlling father-in-law.
“What about the twins … why didn't they inherit the cottage?”
I could tell Mildred was beginning to lose patience with what she thought were stupid questions. After gently withdrawing her hands from mine and moving her chair back to her side of the table, she picked up her cup of tea, continuing only after taking a few sips.
“As I said, Mrs Humphries hadn't made a will. Anyhow, even if she had, there were no way the will could’ve been registered—not at the amount of money it would’ve cost her. As for her son, he weren’t gonna get his hands on it—not as far as she was concerned, because he never spoke t’ her after his grandfather took him t’ live at the manor house when he were a lad. And she weren't allowed t’ leave it t’ me because we weren't related. In the end, it went t’ the state.”
“But what about Alice, his twin sister?”
Mildred's face dropped at the question. “Alice? She died when she were only twelve years old, so she wern't goin' to inherit anythin'.”
What! “How did she die?”
“I's not rightly sure,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Gossip in the village said it had somethin' t’ do with her fallin' down the stairs at the manor house, but we never even knew she were dead until after she were buried. Mrs Humphries were devastated, and never really got over it. She were convinced Alice were about t’ come back t' us.”
Alice fell down the stairs alright, but not how Mildred thought. A flashback to when she fell down the dark cellar stairs and cracked her head on the concrete floor immediately sprung to mind. My thoughts dallied there as I remembered the ghost of Lady Ann and the things we did to her low-life, murdering husband, Sir John.
So, he murdered his granddaughter, as well! Oh, my God, does that mean Lady Ann’s and Peter’s remains are still in the cesspit? If Alice died that day, she couldn’t report what had happened to them. I groaned at the mere thought of it all. Not only have I lost my family because history has changed, but all the good things Alice, Mildred and I managed to put right would never have happened, either.
I tried to remain focused as I looked back at Mildred. I'd found out so much about my new life in the last few minutes, I resolved to hold my nerve and not dwell on those things so I could learn more. “You said I was apologetic when we first met … in what way?”
This time Mildred smiled, as though the memory of me grovelling on the front doorstep gave her pleasure. “You kept sayin' you had done somethin' wrong, and you was determined t’ put it right. You also said that you'd not only pull some strings at the office t’ make sure I could stay here, but that you'd move in t’ help with the bills. I were that relieved. Not havin' me wages from Mrs Humphries anymore, I knew I would be forced t’ move int’ the local commune, and, as I said before, I would rather’ve died than go there. We became good friends after that, and we's been doing okay … until you had yer turn earlier on. What's changed, Miss Veronica?”
What's changed? If only she knew. Everything's changed, including a war that should never have been lost....
Continued…..
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading this part. If any nits are found, please would you let me know, I'd be most grateful. This is written in UK English, with local dialect thrown in on Mildred's part. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
Short synopsis
Veronica and Mildred are taken back in time to 1905 where they meet Gladys and her family. She is a member of the Suffragettes, an organisation for women’s rights, much to her husband, Vice Admiral Charles Pembroke’s fury. Veronica and Mildred soon see how the strong personality of Gladys is changed drastically when faced with her raging husband. He has no compunction in striking both his wife or his son when he feels fit.
Next, they are taken to WW1 where they find Gladys is now a ghost; her son Tommy is now a doctor and Mildred has stayed to help him aid all the casualties from the bombing of London from a Zeppelin, while Veronica was sent home to 1996. But she soon learns it’s not the home or the year she remembers…
End of part 16
This time Mildred smiled, as though the memory of me grovelling on the front doorstep gave her pleasure. “You kept sayin' you had done somethin' wrong, and you was determined t’ put it right. You also said that you'd not only pull strings at the office t’ make sure I could stay here, but that you'd move in t’ help with the bills. I were that relieved. Not havin' me wages from Mrs Humphries anymore, I knew I would be forced t’ move int’ the local commune, and, as I said before, I would rather’ve died than go there. We became good friends after that, and we's been doing okay … until you had yer turn earlier on. What's changed, Miss Veronica?”
What's changed? If only she knew. Everything's changed, including a war that should never have been lost....
Part 2 of Chapter 16
I looked into Mildred’s eyes. I could tell she was worried about me, but how could I explain what had changed without telling her everything, including the resurrection of her younger self in what had been my time? Does she even know her connection to the Powers that be who enable these things? The way she was answering my questions seemed to confirm that she didn't, but I thought I should explore the possibility.
“I’m sorry, Mildred. I think I’m like you, just overly tired—and for some weird reason, my memory is having a holiday.”
Mildred nodded as she stood up to take our empty cups over to the sink. “I knows what you mean, Miss Veronica. I reckon mine took off long ago and forgot t’ come back,” she said as she filled the sink and thrust her hands into the hot, soapy water.
I laughed as I followed her over and grabbed the drying up cloth ready for when she’d washed the cups. Now that the mood seemed lighter, I thought I’d risk another question, and, subtlety not being my strongest point, I just came right out with it. “Do you know who I'm talking about when I refer to the powers that be, Mildred?”
The smile that broke out on her weary face gave me hope for the second time since I'd arrived at the cottage. “Course I knows who you mean,’ she replied when she turned to face me. “We's talked about them often enough.”
The relief that gushed through my fragile mind was so intense, tears welled dangerously close to falling again. I grabbed hold of her shoulders, and, forgetting her age, twirled her around and around, laughing as soap suds splashed everywhere. “You've no idea how happy you've made me.”
Mildred leant against the sink after I'd released her and shook her head, an incredulous expression on her face. “I don’t knows what’s come over you, Miss Veronica, really I don’t. Why’d that make you happy? You knows how we feels about them...”
“I do?”
“Course you do! I can’t remember the last time you came home with a smile on your face. They’s always doin’ somethin’ t’ get your back up—and mine.”
She's not making sense. “I don’t understand … What happened to make us dislike them? They're only trying to put things right that have gone wrong in the past—”
The shocked gasp that escaped Mildred's lips immediately silenced me. “You've changed your tune! Only last week you was tellin' me how they'd made you evict Mrs Jeffreys, the widow who lived at Windmill Cottage. The poor woman had lived there all her life, but when her husband died, she were left with nothin' but debt 'cause of the taxes … tis a disgrace!”
That shut me up! Unless the powers had changed, this just didn’t sound right. “I think we’re talking at cross purposes, Mildred. Why would the powers that be make me evict a widow from her home?”
“Cos that's what they do, and there's nothin' we can do t' change it.”
She was still not making sense; was I missing something? "Mildred, tell me who you think the powers that be are...”
“You knows the answer t’ that, Miss Veronica. They's exactly what they's called. The powers that be have bin dictating what happens in this country for the last eighty years.”
Despair washed over me as I realised what that number of years represented. “So, you think the powers that be are—”
“The Germans, of course. Why ... who else could it be?”
It was obvious that Mildred didn't have a clue who I was talking about. The way I felt was as tangible as hitting a brick wall, head first. Why had the powers sent me to a different version of my past? And more importantly, were they going to leave me here? No! That’s not going to happen, so get it out of your head, Veronica. I don’t want a future if I can’t have James, Ann and Michael in it. Given a choice, who would want to live in this world, anyway? Losing The First World War has changed everything.
I turned back to Mildred and tried to flash an apologetic smile. If the only reason I’m here is because I’ve been sent by the powers that be, I’ll have to persevere and ask what must seem to her to be more weird questions. “Do you fancy another cup of tea, Mildred?”
Instead of answering, she automatically got up and filled the kettle before placing it on the range. When she still hadn't spoken after a couple of minutes, I started to panic. Have I pushed her too far already? My questions must be so confusing, but I need the answers.
“Do you have a computer, Mildred?” I asked when she filled the teapot after the kettle came to the boil.
I could tell from her expression that she was convinced I was winding her up. “Why would I?” she snapped with an angry frown. “I wouldn't know what t' do with it, if I did!”
The memory of Mildred surfing the net in my time brought a smile to my lips. She hadn't found it easy, but she had persevered all the same. At least she seemed to know what a computer was in this new version of 1996, so history couldn't have changed that much.
“What about the library—would it have one? I need to go on the internet.”
Mildred put the teapot on the table and then returned to collect the cups. “What's the matter with the one you've got at work?”
Of course! If I knew where the hell I worked, that might be a possibility. I decided that if I asked Mildred where my office was, she might phone the nearest men in white coats and have me committed.
“Mmm, I suppose I could wait until I go back to the office,” whenever and wherever that is, “but I just wanted to check out a couple of things on the internet before I go to bed.”
“Like what?”
Her tone and the way she looked at me was so hurtful. Mildred was my dearest friend, and this was driving a massive wedge between us. I released a deep sigh before carrying on. “The firs... The war. I seem to have forgotten things … things I should know—Oh, dear. I think you must be right, Mildred. Maybe I did bang my head when I fainted … there’s so much I can’t remember.”
She immediately went into mother-hen mode and came over to examine me. “I knew it the minute you started askin' all them stupid questions,” she muttered as she parted my hair at the back of my head to look for evidence.
“Ouch!” I groaned when she touched an old scar I’d been left with several years ago after falling off my bike. I hated deceiving her, but it was the only thing I could think of to try and explain away my forgetfulness.
“Well, it's not bleedin', but you would be best going t’ the hospital t' get it checked out. You might’ve done yerself some damage.”
Getting back into Mildred’s good books again had me immediately agreeing to go the next morning. “So, can you help me out with a few facts about the war?”
At least my feigned amnesia seemed to have stopped Mildred frowning when I asked what must have sounded like yet another stupid question. “What do you need t' know?” she asked as she poured the tea into our cups and passed me the milk. “I weren't even born, but I learned a bit about it at school, just like you.”
“When did it end?”
She hesitated for a moment before she answered. “1916.”
The year after Mildred and I time-travelled to London when the German Zeppelins were dropping bombs on the city. Could that be the connection? “But why did we lose the war? Surely our troops were able to stop the Germans invading us.”
Mildred shook her head and gently patted my hand. “Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, now I knows you definitely banged your head. It were because of the big sea battle we lost. I can't bring t’ mind what it were called, but it killed thousands of men—I remember me dad telling me about it. Every man and boy were sent t' their deaths, and we lost every ship. Without the navy t' protect us, we was sittin' ducks for the Zeppelins and the German war ships, and our troops were all stranded in France cause they couldn't get home....”
“But what about the Americans … couldn't they help?”
“The Americans … was you not listening during your history lessons? The Americans couldn't help us, and why would they? Even if they'd tried, they couldn’t have got here quick enough t’ help.”
Mildred got up and disappeared into the sitting room while I sat at the table, my head in my hands. When she returned, she waved a yellowed newspaper in my face before she sat down. “When me dad gave me this afore he died, he told me t' hide it cause it were a banned publication, so Mrs Humphries kept it in the secret drawer of her desk. I haven't looked at it since then, but it might answer some of your questions better than I can.”
As I picked up the paper, I could feel my hands trembling. I knew it was going to tell me what had gone wrong, and why history had changed, but I couldn't, for the life of me, imagine what I could possibly do to change it back....
Continued....
Characters….
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you again, for reading my book. If you should find any errors I'd be so pleased if you would point them out. This is written in UK English, plus Mildred's local dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 17 (16 part 2)
Mildred got up and disappeared into the sitting room while I sat at the table, my head in my hands. When she returned, she waved a yellowed newspaper in my face before she sat down. “When me dad gave me this afore he died, he told me t' hide it cause it were a banned publication, so Mrs Humphries kept it in the secret drawer of her desk. I haven't looked at it since then, but it might answer some of your questions better than I can.”
As I picked up the paper, I could feel my hands trembling. I knew it was going to tell me what had gone wrong, and why history had changed, but I couldn't, for the life of me, imagine what I could possibly do to change it back....
Chapter 18
Unknown Time.
The four Powers sat around the table and released a collective sigh.
“This was a long time coming,” Jowell said, echoing the thoughts of the others. “It’s time to take her back to her own family for a short while. We certainly don’t want to upset her, she’s become too valuable.”
Kraid shifted in his seat and nodded. “Who’d have thought it? When we put her into Mrs Humphries body to show her what a tormented life the poor lady had lived and how she had added to it, little did we know how much we would come to respect and appreciate her.”
Murmurs of agreement came from the others. “The newspaper this Mildred’s father had given her and which Mrs Humphries had kept safe, will point her in the right direction.”
“So,” Petro asked, “what’s next, Jowell?”
Jowell raised his arms and folded them behind his neck as he frowned thoughtfully. “She will need to work it out for herself.” He brought his arms down again and rested them on the table. “We know how much she’s hated being away from her husband and children, so it will do her good to see them again. We can send her back in time shortly afterwards.”
“What about Mildred…?”
Leif’s question hung in the air, as they waited for Jowell to respond….
1996
I lay quietly in the darkened room, my thoughts all over the place. The newspaper that Mildred had given me revealed some very disturbing facts ... horrifying details that I had no idea how to handle. Idly, I stretched my arms out and touched … an arm! My eyes flew open and I sat bolt upright, pushing the covers away as I did.
“What's the matter?” James’ sleepy voice filtered through the darkness.
“JAMES!” My scream had him jumping out of bed and reaching for the light.
“What? What’s wrong?” He rushed around to my side of the bed. “Are you in pain?”
I scrambled out of bed and threw myself into his arms. “Oh, James, it’s you! I was so scared when I thought I’d never see you or the children again.”
Sobs intermingled with laughter as my emotions erupted. I clung to him, scared he would disappear if I let him go.
James held me tightly, murmuring soft comforting words as he buried his face into my hair. “It’s alright, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He stood there holding me as I fought to control my feelings.
Ann and Michael! I pushed away from his arms and ran to the bedroom door, “The children, I must see the children!”
I went into Michael’s bedroom and looked down at my sleeping son, marvelling at his perfect rosy cheeks and his long, dark eyelashes. I then gently pulled his discarded duvet back over him before I left his room.
James stood in the doorway, a loving smile on his face, which made me stand on my tiptoes and tenderly kiss his lips. “I’ll just check on Ann,” I told him as I went over to her door.
Ann, just like her little brother, had kicked off her duvet. I pulled it up again, and dropped a kiss on her face. The love I was feeling for my family was overwhelming, and I felt blessed in every way.
“Would you like to talk about it?” James asked.
He understood me so well. I shook my head. “It can wait until tomorrow. All I want to do now is cuddle up with you.”
“My pleasure.” He smiled as he put his arms around me and pulled me close. “That sexy pink nightie is sending out messages that I can’t ignore anymore. Let’s get back to bed,” he said, his voice warm and husky.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of a dog barking somewhere outside. For a moment I couldn’t think where I was ... then it all came flooding back. Had it been real? Or had I just dreamt that I was back home with James and the children? My heart thumped as I nervously moved my hand across the sheet to feel if he was lying by my side. Only then could I dare risk opening my eyes. The relief I felt when my fingers touched his skin was so incredible, my breath caught, as if trapped in a bubble, and scared it would burst.
I turned and watched for a moment as James' chest rose and fell steadily, and then looked at the little dimple in his beautiful chin. That, and the way his lips curved into a smile, even while asleep, all served to make my heart ache with raw emotion.
“Oh, my dear, wonderful James, you couldn’t possibly know how much I love you,” I whispered when he stirred and slowly opened his eyes.
He reached out and pulled me into the crook of his arm before he held me against the warmth of his bare chest. “If you love me half as much as I love you, then I can honestly say, no man is luckier than I’m feeling at this moment.” With his free hand, he tilted my chin to kiss me, but before he could, the bedroom door was flung open, and Michael came charging towards the bed, with Ann in hot pursuit.
“Sorry, Mum, I couldn’t stop him!” she cried before she jumped on the bed, as well. “He said he was starving, and wouldn’t wait a minute longer for Mildred to come and cook his choocky egg. I told him everyone must still be asleep 'cause it’s Saturday, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s a little monster!”
After giving them both a cuddle, I flung my legs out of the bed and grabbed my dressing gown. The fact that Mildred hadn’t done her usual and prepared breakfast for the children made a sliver of fear invade my previous elation.
“I’m sure Mildred will be up soon,” I said as cheerfully as I could. “She must be having a lie-in.”
The look James gave me was tinged with scepticism. We both knew how much Mildred loved her time with the children in the morning, so my suggestion that she might prefer to stay in bed probably seemed ludicrous.
After I checked the kitchen, I went back upstairs and gingerly knocked on Mildred’s door. A moment later, after not hearing a sound, I decided to go in. The curtains were still closed, as they would be, because Mildred had just gone to bed before we were taken back to the First World War—but she wasn’t there. But she must be! We always returned together after we time-travelled. I raced around the cottage and had my fears confirmed--Mildred was nowhere to be found.
I returned to the kitchen and tried to stay calm as I filled the kettle and put it on the range
What if she’s still in the other parallel world of 1996? Oh, Mildred, you can’t be there on your own. You might be put into one of those communes you hated so much. What are the Powers doing to us? My stomach twisted into a painful, sickening knot, and I leant over and gripped hold of the table.
“Veronica—what’s up?” James rushed over and pulled out a chair for me to sit on. “Is Mildred okay?”
I shook my head before looking back at him with tear filled eyes. “No, she’s … Oh, James … I think she’s stranded in a time where we lost the First World War, and life as you and I know it doesn’t exist….”
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes |
Thank you so much for reading this part. If you do find any errors, I am always so pleased and very grateful to have them pointed out to me. This is written in UK English.
|
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 18
“Veronica—what’s up?” James rushed over and pulled out a chair for me to sit on. “Is Mildred okay?”
I shook my head before looking back at him with tear filled eyes. “No, she’s … Oh, James … I think she’s stranded in a time where we lost the First World War, and life as you and I know it doesn’t exist….”
Chapter 19
James stared at me in bewilderment. “But how could that happen?”
I looked up at the ceiling for a second and wrestled with my thoughts. How on earth can I explain something that is so outrageous it comes into the realm of fantasy? Although I’ve seen it with my own eyes, it’s still hard to believe.
“This is going to sound totally weird, James—I still can’t come to grips with it myself. I can only tell you where I’ve been and what I learnt while I was there, okay?”
I waited until he nodded. “To get straight to the point, I’ll skip the earlier events until later. I was in the First World War for a while and then I felt myself being transported again. Back home, I thought—only it wasn’t home as we know it. There was only one war in this new version of history, and we lost to the Germans in 1916. I've just returned from a new version of 1996, and not only were you not in it, but the children didn't exist either.”
As he absorbed what I'd just said, he pulled out a chair and slumped into it before looking back at me. “In other words—”
“You and I never married and the children were never born.”
The silence was palpable, only broken by James taking a deep breath. “Alright, say I accept what you are saying, and history changed because we lost the First World War. That doesn’t mean we won’t meet at some point, and then have the children anyway, does it?”
I was about to agree with him, but was interrupted when Ann and Michael charged into the kitchen demanding breakfast.
“Where's Aunty Mildred?” Michael asked after I'd hurriedly poured some hot water into a pan to boil the eggs.
James and I exchanged exasperated looks before he ruffled Michael's uncombed mass of blond curls. “Ah … she's had to go away for a few days. She told me to tell you she'd be back soon...”
Ann frowned for a moment. “But that's not what she told me...”
“What do you mean?” I snapped.
James gave me a look that immediately made me wish I hadn't sounded so cross. The children couldn't imagine the kind of pressure we were under, so it wasn't fair for me to take my frustration out on them. “Oh, Sweetheart, I'm so sorry … Mummy's a bit tired this morning.”
With an apparent wisdom beyond her years, Ann came over and took my hand before assuring me everything would be okay.
I smiled as I looked down at her dainty little fingers wrapped around mine. She was trying so hard to alleviate my fears, bless her. “When did you last speak to Aunty Mildred, Ann?”
“Last night, when she woke me up. She didn't want us to be worried while she's not here.”
The look on James' face suggested that he’d come to the same conclusion that I had. Ann's bedroom had been a porthole for people who'd lived here in the past, including myself when I was trapped after Alice’s accident—it had obviously happened again.
“What did Aunty Mildred tell you, exactly, Sweetheart?”
Ann stood on tiptoes and popped four pieces of bread into the toaster before answering.
“She told me she was stuck in a strange place for a while, an' Michael an' me must be good for you an' daddy while she's gone.”
My mind went into overdrive. “Did Aunty Mildred say where she was?”
“No, she just said she was stuck there, an' she was trying to sort things out.”
“Did she say when she would be back?”
Ann gave me a look that made me feel about six inches tall. “I told you, Mummy … she just said she was stuck somewhere an' couldn't come back just now.”
Sensing my frustration, James defused the situation by scooping Ann up in his arms and winked at me over her shoulder. “Well, I'm sure she'll be back soon and we can find out what it's all about then,” he said, before placing her gently onto her chair.
I carried on making breakfast as though in a trance. I had so many questions I wanted to ask, and so much to tell James about my last time-travelling trip, but the fact that both our children seemed impervious to the seriousness of the situation made me bite my tongue. If Alice and her husband hadn't been taking them to the beach at ten o'clock, I would have lost the plot completely.
As we waved goodbye, James squeezed my shoulders … a sure sign he knew I was struggling. When Alice’s car disappeared around the bend, I closed the door and leant my back against it. I took a few deep breaths before going back to the kitchen. I had so much to tell James about my last time-travelling trip.
“Tell me exactly what happened this time,” James said as he helped me gather the dirty dishes from the table to put in the sink.
I turned around and slumped against his chest. “Oh, James …. it was awful. For some reason the Powers let me see what would happen if history changed. Mildred has to work in a factory every night because state pensions don't exist anymore, and if I wasn't there to help, she would end up in an old people's commune and lose the cottage. You and I obviously never met because she didn't know who I was talking about when I mentioned your name, so it only confirmed that the children didn't exist either.”
A sob escaped my lips as the memory of the awfulness of it all came back to me; this had James enfolding me in his arms. As the tears tumbled down my cheeks, he soothingly stroked my hair and told me everything would be fine.
“But how can it be fine if it turns out to be true?” I asked. “What if there's been a change to history that means we really did lose the First World War, and we never met?”
“It doesn’t bear thinking about. Do you know what happened to change things?”
I shook my head and moved away from his arms so that I could look into his eyes. “No, I haven’t the slightest idea, but Mildred showed me an old newspaper that outlined what happened, and it was horrendous. Hundreds of thousands of men were sent to their death on sea and land, and every major city was obliterated by Zeppelins. Honestly, James, you can't imagine how different it was from the First World War as we understood it.”
“According to the newspaper, we lost a huge sea battle off the coast of Germany, which meant the entire British navy had been sunk. After that, all our troops were stranded in Europe, so they were either killed or captured.”
James glanced heavenward for a second before looking back at me. “Well, in that case I probably wasn't even born in this new version of history.”
“What do you mean?”
James ran a hand through his hair and then explained. “My grandfather was one of the officers who survived the battle of Jutland, the main sea battle of World War One. If it never happened, and another disastrous sea battle took place instead, then he must have died—which would mean my father wasn’t born….”
We both sat in silence for a moment as we wrestled with our thoughts. “There's no point in speculating until we know a few more facts,” James eventually said. “I'm going to check out anything I can find about World War One on the internet. I've also got the letters my grandfather sent my grandmother during the war, so they might shed some light on what might have gone wrong.”
James was right. Sitting around fretting about things wasn't helping, although I still couldn't see what I could do as a time-traveller to stop history from changing....
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading this chapter. If you find any errors, you know how much I appreciate your pointing them out. Thank you! This is written in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 19
We both sat in silence for a moment as we wrestled with our thoughts. “There's no point in speculating until we know a few more facts,” James eventually said. “I'm going to check out anything I can on the internet. I've also got the letters my grandfather sent my grandmother during the war, so they might shed some light on what might have gone wrong.”
James was right. Sitting around fretting about things wasn't helping, although I still couldn't see what I could do as a time-traveller to stop history from changing....
Chapter 20
Two hours later, and we had made little progress. James had researched as much as he could regarding sea battles during the First World War, and all the internet confirmed was that we’d only had one at the end of May in 1916. Neither side won, although there were heavy casualties to both Germans and British alike.
“I just don’t get it,” James eventually said after he turned away from the computer. “We deployed twenty-eight battleships and nine battlecruisers. How could we be beaten in another version of history when the German naval fleet was much smaller than ours?”
“Could it have anything to do with the Zeppelins? The paper Mildred showed me said they played a big part in us losing the war.”
James returned to his keyboard and typed in the word, Zeppelins. I watched him as he studied the screen while I remained cross-legged on the floor where I’d been reading his grandfather’s letters. After a couple of minutes, I decided to finish washing the breakfast dishes and then make us a cup of tea. By the time I got back to the living room, James was studying the notes he’d made.
“The Royal Air Corps didn’t work out a way to bring down Zeppelins until the middle of 1916, so if the war ended before that, I suppose they could have played a big part in winning it for the Germans. They were also able to keep an eye on the North Sea, left unobserved because of their altitude—but it was their ability to bomb our cities that put the fear of God into everyone.”
“Well, I certainly know how awful the bombings were,” I said as I passed him his mug. “Before Mildred and I ended up at St Margaret’s hospital in London, we had to take refuge in the nearby tube station. I don’t know how many bombs the Zeppelins dropped, but the raid went on for hours, and not only did it kill and injure hundreds of people, it devastated the city."
James frowned and leaned over to put his mug down on the coffee table; he looked intrigued by what I'd just told him. "What did you say the hospital was called?"
“St Margaret’s—why?”
After a few seconds of staring at the screen, James turned back to me with an anxious expression. “I’m not sure if this has anything to do with what’s going on, but St Margaret’s suffered a direct hit on September the eighth in 1915. It happened during a Zeppelin raid over London. Do you know what date you were there with Mildred?”
I thought back to when I was standing in the hospital and frowned—nothing came to mind. I shook my head. "I haven't the foggiest idea. All I know is it must have been summer because everyone in the tube station was wearing lightweight clothing. Oh, James, you don’t think Mildred could have been killed or injured in the bombing of the hospital, do you? I was in spirit form, but she was as physical as you and I are, so the fact she was a time-traveller wouldn’t have protected her.”
James gave me a wry smile. “If history changes, I won’t be ‘physical’ at all, and Mildred ends up living here and working in a factory, so who knows? Are you saying that you think she may be stuck in 1915, not the parallel world of 1996?”
I pursed my lips before slowly shaking my head. “Oh God, I don’t know which is worse. I just can’t understand why she couldn’t come back with me like she usually does.”
“Perhaps it’s because she’s needed somewhere else.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you said you were in spirit form when you travelled to 1915, but Mildred was in physical form. It stands to reason if the powers that be want you to do something to stop history changing, Mildred is the only one who can actually do it.”
What he said made sense, although I still couldn’t see how it could work. “But what can Mildred do, apart from helping out in the hospital? If our forces couldn’t stop the Germans from winning the war, what difference could she make?”
James shrugged his shoulders. “Like you, I have no idea, but it’s the only thing that I can think of to explain her being stuck somewhere other than here. If you and I are having a conversation in the version of 1996 before history changed, Mildred must still be back in 1915, because it hasn’t changed yet.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Of course I didn’t like the idea of Mildred being stuck in a parallel world where she was having to work herself to death in her old age, but I didn’t like the idea of her younger self being stuck in 1915 either, especially now that I knew the hospital where I’d left her had been bombed.
Seeing how upset I was, James abandoned his computer and joined me on the floor. “What about you?” he asked in an obvious effort to change the subject. “Have Grandfather’s letters given you any clues as to why we might have lost the war?”
“I’m sorry, James. I suppose the letters were censored, so your grandfather wouldn’t be able to write anything that might give the Germans an advantage if his letters fell into the wrong hands.”
I had read all the letters but one, and they hadn’t said anything but how much James’ grandfather loved his young wife, and how he couldn’t wait to see her again. In fact, I’d felt rather uncomfortable reading the immensely personal letters.
Accepting we weren't moving forward, I started gathering the letters to put back in the box from the attic, when James picked up the last one from the rug.
“He loved your grandmother very much—you should read it,” I told him as I squeezed his shoulder before standing up. “It would be awful to think history changed, and they didn’t have the wonderful life together you told me about.”
He stared at the letter with a sad smile and nodded. “I did read them when my father gave them to me several years ago, and yes, I remember how romantic they were. My grandfather was a commissioned officer before the war started, so he was used to writing letters home. It must have been doubly hard for the men to go to war and leave their loved ones behind, especially when they knew they might not make it back.”
After James opened the letter and start to read it, I noticed his eyes welling up and heard his voice choke as he read the last part out loud. “So now I must say goodbye, my Love, because we’re being shipped out tomorrow. Vice Admiral Pembroke came for an official visit today and inspired us with his words. He told us to expect a change of plans, but we won’t know what they are until we set sail. All I pray is that I can come home to you soon, my Darling, and we can start that family we talked about so often—"
“What did he say?” I gasped.
“He said he couldn’t wait to come back to my grandmother and start the family they had talked about—”
“No! Before that.”
“What—the bit about the visit from the Vice Admiral?”
I grabbed the letter from James and started to read it, my hands shaking as I did. It was dated the 26th of April 1916, just one week before the newspaper Mildred had shown me said the Germans had declared victory—and three days before the internet said the battle of Jutland took place. After I’d read the last paragraph for a second time, I slumped down on the sofa with the letter still clutched in my hand.
“What’s wrong, Veronica? You’ve gone as white as a sheet!”
“I know where Mildred is...”
“Where?”
“She is still back in 1915.”
“Why?”
I looked back at James and tried to keep my voice steady. I still couldn’t believe I hadn’t worked it out before.
“Because she has to kill someone before he gets the chance to change history….”
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you again, for reading my story. If you should come across any errors, as always, I would be so grateful if you let me know. This is written in UK English. :)) xx |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 20
“What’s wrong, Veronica? You’ve gone as white as a sheet!”
“I know where Mildred is...”
“Where?”
“She is still back in 1915.”
“Why?”
I looked back at James and tried to keep my voice steady. I still couldn’t believe I hadn’t worked it out before.
“Because she has to kill someone before he gets the chance to change history….”
Chapter 21
James nearly choked on the swig of tea he’d just taken. “You have to be joking! Mildred’s not capable of killing a germ ridden rodent, and you’re talking about her killing a man? I’m sorry, Sweetheart, but I think you’ve completely lost it this time.”
I took a deep breath. I knew he was right—but so many thoughts were racing through my head, and the more I tossed them around, the surer I was that this was the only logical answer.
“But don’t you see? Vice Admiral Pembroke has to be stopped. Once he alters the destination of the fleet, we know the war will be lost, along with thousands of men. We have to ensure the battle still takes place in Jutland. Even if I'm sent back to 1915, I can’t actually do anything. Unless the powers send me back in my physical form, Mildred is the only one who can.”
“I appreciate that, but Mildred killing someone?” James turned and put his mug on the coffee table before standing up and reaching his hand out to pull me up beside him. “There’s as much chance of that happening as her becoming Prime Minister between then and now. It’s just not in her nature to harm anyone.”
I slumped against his chest and James wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. I was getting myself into quite a state over this; I didn’t know what to say or do, but knowing he seemed to understand helped me pull myself together.
“What else can I suggest?” I asked in a disheartened whisper. “If Mildred can’t be convinced that she has to do what has to be done, how else can we stop the vile man from doing something that's going to change the world as we know it, and take you and our children away from me?”
The sound of his heart beating next to my ear managed to calm me, and I stepped back and looked into his eyes. “What can I do to make this right?”
James’ lips tightened, almost disappearing as he thought about it. “I don’t know, Love. The fact is, we’ve no idea what part you’re supposed to play in all this, so there’s no point in us fretting until we do. Mildred’s different from you because she obviously has a more direct connection to the powers that be, or they wouldn’t have brought her back to us as her younger self after she died. Who knows? Maybe Mildred has a killer instinct that’s never shown itself before. Once she knows everyone’s future will be altered if Pembroke has his way, it might come to the fore.”
The idea of Mildred having a ‘killer’ instinct made me chuckle. It really did sound ridiculous. How could I even have thought of her killing anyone, far less the vice admiral?
“Maybe … when I'm sent back and tell her what I’ve found out … maybe then she'll realise she has no choice. I know if it was left to me to do the dirty deed, I’d do it easily, especially now I know you and our children won’t be born if he gets his way.”
James smiled and squeezed me tightly. “Saying and doing are two very different things, my sweet, caring wife.”
The rest of the morning was spent talking about ways to murder a person without getting caught. Some of our ideas were quite outrageous, and left us both laughing at the absurdity of the conversation. There was no doubt about it; James’ medical knowledge would come in useful if we decided to go into the assassination profession!
By the time the children came bursting through the door when Alice and Kenneth brought them back from the beach, the tension I’d been feeling since leaving the younger Mildred in 1915 had almost evaporated. At least I didn’t have to worry about the older Mildred since I realise that the parallel world doesn’t exist while I’m still in this world. Oh, how I loved the normality of family life and the enthusiastic chit-chat of the children as they told us about their day.
“Look what we found!” Ann excitedly announced after she'd unceremoniously dumped their wet towels and sandy clothes onto the kitchen table. Michael immediately followed her, emptying his bucket of shells beside them.
The smell of the sea wafted from each one, and for a moment I closed my eyes and imagined I was standing in the water as the waves lapped at my feet.
“Look at this one!” Michael tugged at my cardigan, willing me to open my eyes and look at the shell in his hand.
“My goodness! That is a big conch!” I gasped. I wasn’t just saying it, either. I don’t think I’d ever seen one as large as the one he was holding. “Let’s wipe some of the muck off so we can see what colour it is.”
Ann grabbed the dish cloth and took the conch over to the sink to give it a good clean. It didn’t take her long to bring it back to its original glory, which allowed us to see the beautiful coral pink on the inside. I put it to my ear and listened, then handed it back to her. “Hold it against yours and tell me what you hear.”
I watched her eyes widen with delight as she listened to the sounds coming from inside the conch. “The sea! I can hear the sea!” she squealed excitedly. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw the glow of pleasure spread over her face. “Here—” Ann held the conch out to Michael. “Now you do it … go on!”
I could see by the way he rolled his eyes that Michael thought we were being silly, but took it from her and did as he was told. The look of surprise on his face was magical. “How can that be?” he asked as he held it out and gave it a good shake.
I had to laugh. “There’s no water in there. The sound of the ocean is due to the trapped air bouncing off the curves inside the shell—that’s what gives you the sound of the sea. The larger the shell, the louder the noise. It’s nice, isn’t it?” Michael put it back to his ear and listened again. “What are you going to do with all these?” I asked, pointing to the rest of the shells.
Ann shrugged and Michael just looked blankly at the pile. “Well, I have a suggestion. Why don’t we ask Daddy for two of his plant pots? You could make shell containers to put your pens and crayons in.”
Michael’s reaction was immediate. “Oh, yes! Um, how do we do that?” he asked with a puzzled frown.
“We’ll ask Dad if he has any plaster of paris. That will hold the shells on the pots. Go and wash the shells—you can dry them on that tea towel I’ve just used." I went to the cupboard and took out two of my foil freezer containers and handed them one each. "When you've done that you can share them out and put them into these.”
For the next hour and a half, James and I had a most enjoyable time helping them make their pencil holders, and once they were finished, we had two very tired but extremely happy children. The sun and sea air had done them both good, and the healthy glow on their cheeks was evident as we tucked them into their respective beds after they’d had a bath.
“Night-night, Sweetheart,” I whispered in Ann’s ear before I kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t forget to come and get me if Aunty Mildred comes to visit you in the night.”
“I will, Mummy,” she murmured, her eyes closing.
Before I had time to turn off her bedroom light, Ann was fast asleep, and I couldn’t resist watching her for a few moments. Twenty-four hours before, I thought my children no longer existed, and my heart was fit to burst with the love I felt for them now that I was back in my own time. But what if we couldn't stop history from changing? A shiver of fear travelled down my spine as I switched off the light....
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes |
I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, and I wish you all a happy, healthy 2019!
Thank you all so much for reading this part. If you find any errors, please let me know. I would really appreciate it. Thank you! Written in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 21
For the next hour and a half, James and I had a most enjoyable time helping them make their pencil holders, and once they were finished, we had two very tired but extremely happy children. The sun and sea air had done them both good, and the healthy glow on their cheeks was evident as we tucked them into their respective beds after they’d had a bath.
“Night-night, Sweetheart,” I whispered in Ann’s ear before I kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t forget to come and get me if Aunty Mildred comes to visit you in the night.”
“I will, Mummy,” she murmured, her eyes closing.
Before I had time to turn off her bedroom light, Ann was fast asleep, and I couldn’t resist watching her for a few moments. Twenty-four hours before, I thought my children no longer existed, and my heart was fit to burst with the love I felt for them now I was back in my own time. But what if we couldn't stop history from changing? A shiver of fear travelled down my spine as I switched off the light....
Chapter 22
By the time I’d returned to join James in the sitting room, I was more than ready for a glass of wine. It had been a hectic day with all the toing and froing—mentally more than physically. Sitting on the sofa next to James with my legs curled up beneath me, I rested against him with a relaxed sigh. “Well, I haven’t been sent back in time yet.” I smiled as I turned my head up to look at him. “To be honest, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m so worried about Mildred and our future, I would be happy never to time-travel again.”
James shifted his arm so that it draped around my shoulder to support my head more comfortably. “I couldn’t agree more. I tried to put it to the back of my mind while we were helping the children make their pencil holders, but the enormity of what we’ve discovered this morning kept popping back into my head. You … No, we’ll have to think of another way to deal with the Vice Admiral. It’s too much to expect Mildred to kill him off.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking the same thing. Although it seems laughable to suggest Mildred could kill him, I just can't think of any other way we can stop him from changing history.”
“But you will. Knowing you the way I do, it won’t take you long to find a solution. How many times have you found yourself in impossible situations like this in the past? You always manage to work out what to do for the best. I'm sure that's why the powers that be picked you in the first place.”
I sat up and looked him in the eye, his encouragement giving me hope. “You really think so?”
“I know so. They obviously think you're capable of sorting out this threat to our timeline … with or without Mildred's help. All the same, I don’t think they would’ve left her there without a good reason.” A deep frown creased his forehead. “That is unprecedented, isn’t it? I mean, up until the beginning of this assignment, you’ve never travelled to the past as a solid person … been yourself … Oh, what I’m trying to say is, you’ve never been in a position that would make it possible for you to be harmed, as Mildred is now.”
I distractedly pushed my hair off my face as I mulled over his question, but as I did, more questions evolved. “No, I haven’t. The other strange thing is, why wasn’t she brought back with me? Why did the powers send me to witness a time that was a possible equivalent, but with a different outcome to what this time-line had? And why didn’t that Mildred know about the powers, or the time-travelling?”
James shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think our Mildred would know, either. Personally, I think you should forget about sorting things out for the present, and concentrate on what we already know.”
My mind was in a whirl of confusion. Did the powers that be have that much confidence in me? They must have, or they wouldn't expect me to handle such a monumental task. More importantly, my husband obviously does. I decided to do as he suggested and just concentrate on what I knew. I snuggled up to him and enjoyed the same feeling of euphoria I'd felt when I was tucking the children up in bed. “I love you so much,” I murmured. “I can't imagine my life without you.”
James responded by swigging back his drink and standing up, his hand outstretched for mine.
I had no idea what time it was, or how long it had been after James and I had finally drifted off to sleep, but the feel of soft hands tugging on my arm soon had me reluctantly dragged away from a wonderful dream. “Mummy! Wake up. Come on, Mummy ... Aunty Mildred wants to talk to you.”
I sat bolt upright before swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing my dressing gown from the chair, and following my daughter back to her room.
“Mildred!” I was shocked when I saw her. She was in the room, yet she wasn’t. It was as though half of her was still in the past because I could see it was her, and I recognised her whereabouts. Having already experienced seeing people who had come through the portal into this room, I knew this was so different. I was unprepared for what I was now looking at. I realised I had to be quick because Mildred was fading in and out—I could only stand and watch as the time-line quivered.
I wondered if I could step through the portal into the past to be with Mildred, but what would happen if I did? Before I could even attempt it, she faded out and was gone.
Fear filled me as I continued to wait. I looked across at Ann, her sweet, sleeping face peeping out from under her duvet. Bless her heart, she had no idea what was going on. Thank goodness for small mercies. I sat on the floor and leant against the wall as I waited, desperately hoping that Mildred would come back again. Seconds passed, though it felt like hours, before she reappeared. “Thank goodness! What’s happening?”
“Oh, Miss Veronica, thank the powers I can see you. I don’t know how 'tis possible. When’re you comin’ back? I need you here, Oh Lordy, Miss Veronica, everyone is surely scared outta their wits with these Zeppelins. Me an’ all!”
“I wish you were back here with me! Try to keep calm for a bit longer, Mildred. I’m sure the powers will send me back soon now I have a bit more to work on. If you’ve got the connection with them that I believe you to have, start hollering and rock their comfortable boat!”
When Mildred turned her head with a cry of alarm, I found myself holding my breath. What was going on? "Oh, Lordy, they're bombin' us again!"
My mind tried to batten down against the frenzied thoughts that kept charging to the fore. What date did James say the hospital was hit? Was this it? “Mildred! What's the date? Quickly, tell me!”
“What? … Miss Veronica … you’re—”
I jumped up and stared at the point in the room Mildred had just left. Sharp, icy fingers stabbed at my spine, freezing me to the spot. How long I stood there, I couldn't say. It was only when I shivered that my mind started to register again. What just happened? I couldn’t leave Ann’s room in case Mildred returned, so I sat down on the floor again, and drawing my legs up, I leant forward to rest my head on my knees. I was so tired, but I couldn’t go to sleep in case I missed her. She could come back again. She will … she must!
I had a sense of being lifted, or was I just floating? When I felt a cover going over me, my eyes shot open. “James? What’s going on?”
“You fell asleep, Love. I came to look for you when I woke and realised you’d gone. What were you doing asleep on Ann’s bedroom floor?”
I sat up and quickly told him what had happened. “I’d hoped she’d come back—Oh, James, you don’t think the hospital was bombed when Mildred disappeared, do you…?"
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading this part. If you see any errors, please let me know, I would be so grateful. This is written in UK English. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for your continued support, I appreciate all of you. If you find any errors, I'm always happy to hear about them. This is written in UK English, and Mildred's unique dialect. lol. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of Part 23
I poured myself a glass of water and readied myself for some serious research. I will find something, if it kills me! Flexing my fingers, I set to and began my hunt for clues. Two hours later, after delving into every bit of information I could find, I was still no nearer finding anything that looked remotely like what the ‘powers’ were waiting for me to find.
I wrapped my arms around my shoulders as I let out a frustrated groan. “Why won’t you send me back?
I cried out. “Mildred needs me!”
The silence that met me made me feel like screaming. I was obviously missing something, but for the life of me, I couldn't work out what it was....
Chapter 24
I stared at the computer screen again. My thoughts were scrambled in so many directions, but none of them were leading me to where I wanted them to go. I stood up and walked over to the window and looked out onto the garden.
I need to mow the lawn before it gets out of control. I’ll make a mental note to do it this weekend. “Oh, Mildred, what am I supposed to be doing?” I glanced over my shoulder at the computer. “Well, you won’t find out standing here, my girl. Best get back to it.”
I sighed and gave one last look at the garden before I returned to the computer. After making myself comfortable, I scrolled down the page to resume my search for clues. What are the ‘powers’ waiting for me to discover? It must be something that will help Mildred evacuate the hospital before all hell drops out of the sky. But what?
Flicking to the next page, I skimmed through and shook my head. Nothing useful there. I continued on until something caught my eye just as I was going to move on to page six. There, in large bold letters, was surely the reason the powers-that-be had been keeping me here. ‘Plans of The Regency Hospital.’ “Now that’s more like it!” I grinned, my excitement beginning to bubble over as I opened the page.
I quickly perused the whole document on the screen before going back to give each of the floors, which included the basement, a thorough inspection. There was no mention of a shelter, which I didn’t expect to find, anyway. Why would I? Planes and Zeppelins didn’t exist when these plans were being drawn up, so the idea of anyone dropping bombs on people wouldn’t even have entered their heads. The problem was, I was stumped as to where I go from here.
I looked over the top of the computer and stared vacantly at the wallpaper. I was so sure this was what I was supposed to find. With a soft groan, I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve the tension I was constantly feeling these days.
Turning my attention back to the job at hand, I went over each of the floors again to see if I’d missed something. The ground floor was the only one with doors to the outside, and to bring the patients to safety from the above floors, there were two lifts and a staircase. “That’s not a lot of good. They won't be any safer outside than they would be inside the hospital.”
Having meticulously studied all the other floors, I decided to look once more at the basement. I squinted before I moved closer to the screen. What’s that? I magnified the picture and let out a whoop of joy. The relief I felt when I saw the words ‘Proposed connection to underground’ next to a door, which had dotted lines indicating where it would lead, was beyond words.
“Proposed? Oh, please don’t tell me it was never built!” I shook my head. “No—this has to be what they wanted me to find.” My mind was doing cartwheels as I digested this new discovery. “It’s got to be it. A corridor leading to the underground would be the ideal place to take patients in the event of an emergency.”
The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became. A corridor would lead them along to another exit, as there would be no point waiting to go back into the hospital if it was going to be flattened. “Yes, this is definitely it!”
Believing I’d at last found what the ‘powers’ wanted me to find, I studied the basement plans for at least another thirty or forty minutes, working out the way to the door from the stairs and lifts. As if a camera was clicking away in my head, my mind quickly committed every detail to memory, and when I felt I could do no more, I slumped back in the computer chair and looked heavenward. “Please, please return me to the hospital,” I called out frantically to the silence around me. “I’ve discovered what you wanted me to find … I know what I need to do….”
***
“Oh, Lordy, the powers must’ve heard me and sent you back!” Mildred came rushing over and threw her arms around me. Or, rather, threw her arms straight through me. “Oh!” The baffled expression in her eyes was soon replaced with merriment when she realised what she’d done.
I was back! The relief that flooded over me was intoxicating. “Mildred, you’re still alive. Thank goodness for that!”
“Course I’m alive—what on earth are you goin’ on about?” she asked, giving me one of her strange looks before shaking her head and grinning. “You’ve missed the bombin’ you’ll be pleased t’ know. Them Zeppethings just didn’t want t’ stop last night. Lordy, how many bombs do you think they can carry in one go? It were right scary—” She stopped, I watched as her face scrunched up and her eyes closed for a second as she became aware of the incredulous looks everyone was giving her. She threw out her arms dramatically. “It’s alright, people, I’m just praticin’ me part for a West End play—so pleased I got your attention!” she quipped in order to cover up the fact that it looked as if she was talking to herself.
I couldn’t help it, I just cracked up laughing. The fear and worry of the past few hours must have triggered my emotions, because suddenly I was laughing and crying at the same time. “Oh, Mildred, you have no idea how good it is to see you again.”
As I looked around at all the wounded people, many more than the last time I was here, the seriousness of what might be going to happen in a few short hours’ time brought me back to my senses. “Mildred, what’s today’s date?”
Mildred frowned and turned away from the patients. “I’m not rightly sure,” she whispered behind her hand. “Why?”
“It’s important, Mildred. Quick, ask someone.”
Her frown deepened as she looked at me, then she turned back to face everyone in the ward. “Oh, hang on a sec.” Walking over to the nearest bed, she picked up the patient’s chart. “Here we are—it’s the eighth of September.”
My heart sank. Although I knew we hadn’t, just for the tiniest moment, I was hoping James and I had got the dates wrong, giving us a few days' grace—even one day would have been nice. “Come with me, Mildred, we have to go down to the basement.” I shouted over my shoulder as I dashed towards the door.
“The basement? What d’you want t’ go down there for?” she asked as she quickened her pace in order to keep up with me. “Miss Veronica, what the heck’s goin’ on?”
I stopped just outside the ward and looked across at her anxious expression, and decided to get straight to the point. “There’s going to be another bombing raid tonight, and this hospital will take a direct hit. Luckily, the Zeppelins won’t be here until after dark, so we still have a few hours to get everyone to safety, but we haven’t a minute to waste.”
Mildred’s sharp intake of breath, and the blood draining from her face as she took in the enormity of what I’d told her, had her leaning against the wall to steady herself. “But, they can’t … how can they get back t’ Germany t’ reload, and then get back here so fast? It’s not possible … is it?”
“They have dozens of Zeppelins, Mildred. It’s amazing what you can find out on the internet these days. Quite honestly, I was as shocked as you that they would attack on two successive nights.”
Mildred’s pale face accentuated her wide eyes. As I watched, I could almost see her mind whirring into action. “We’s got t’ get all the patients outta here,” she said with a steely determination now appearing in her eyes. “But how? There’s loads that can’t walk, and where’d we take them anyways?”
“Before they sent me back here, I found the plans for this hospital on the internet. After studying them for a while, I found what looks like a door leading from the basement into an underground corridor. Now, the thing is, it only says ‘proposed door’ on the plans, so I’m hoping they did put it in and that it’s still there. If we can just go down and check it out, I’m sure we can organise a quick evacuation.”
“You think so?”
I pointed over to the lifts. “There’s only one way to find out. Let’s go and take a look.”
Mildred didn’t hesitate, and after telling a nurse she was taking a break, quickly walked over to the lifts with me in hot pursuit. She pulled back the metal gate and waited until we were both inside before closing it behind us and pressing the button to take us down.
As we stood side by side in the rattling cage, Mildred grimaced and gave me one of her distorted smiles. “I hates comin’ down here,” she said. “This is where we have t’ take the families t’ identify the bodies of their loved ones. There’s more down here than usual due t’ what’s goin’ on up top.” She gave a shudder. “I just hopes the mortuary door’s closed.”
The lift juddered to a halt and Mildred pushed the gate open. The light was dim, but just bright enough to see by, allowing me to stand for a moment and picture the layout I’d memorised from the internet. Mildred was already outside the lift, waiting for me to follow. I pointed towards the far side of the basement where I remembered the door to the passage had been drawn on the plans. “Over there.”
I stopped short when I saw the wall was covered by a row of high individual metal racks, each one supporting shelves wide enough to hold two boxes side by side. My eyes flitted along the other walls in case they’d put the door somewhere else. They hadn’t. The door, if it had been put in, had to be behind one of these metal racks. I threw my hands up into the air and glared angrily at the roof. “A little help now and then wouldn’t be such a bad idea!”
Unperturbed, Mildred started moving the boxes so we could see behind them, and we both let out a sigh of relief when the door was revealed. Five minutes later, she had cleared the rest of the boxes from the shelves, and then carefully moved the empty rack away while I stood there feeling completely useless. As soon as we were able to get to it, she excitedly turned the door handle—only to find out it was locked.
What the hell do we do now….?
Continued
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The powers-that-be
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | I'd like to thank everyone for their encouraging reviews and constant support, I'd be lost without you. As you know, I'll take any suggestion on board and and I'm always happy to be told if an error is spotted. This is written in UK English, with Mildred's added dialect. Thanks again. xxx |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 24
The lift juddered to a halt and Mildred pushed the gate open. The light was dim, but just bright enough to see by, allowing me to stand for a moment and picture the layout I’d memorised from the internet. Mildred was already outside the lift, waiting for me to follow. I pointed towards the far side of the basement where I remembered the door to the passage had been drawn on the plans. “Over there.”
I stopped short when I saw the wall was covered by a row of high individual metal racks, each one supporting shelves wide enough to hold two boxes side by side. My eyes flitted along the other walls in case they’d put the door somewhere else. They hadn’t. The door, if it had been put in, had to be behind one of these metal racks. I threw my hands up into the air and glared angrily at the roof. “A little help now and then wouldn’t be such a bad idea!”
Unperturbed, Mildred started moving the boxes so we could see behind them, and we both let out a sigh of relief when the door was revealed. Five minutes later, she had cleared the rest of the boxes from the shelves, and then carefully moved the empty rack away while I stood there feeling useless. As soon as we were able to get to it, she turned the door handle—only to find out it was locked.
What the hell do we do now….?
Chapter 25
Chapter 25
For goodness sake, when will something go right for a change? “If I didn’t know any better,” I told Mildred as my frustration began to sizzle, “I would believe these obstacles had been deliberately set up to thwart us.
"Okay, saying there is a key, where would they keep it? I mean, who knows how long this has been locked. It’s obvious to anyone that it hasn’t been used for a long time when you consider all the effort someone has spent putting all this gear in front of it.”
“Let’s not start lookin’ on the black side," she said in her soft, placating voice. "Tell you what, I’ll go and have a quick rummage in the office—there shouldn’t be anyone in there this time of day.”
I watched Mildred dash back to the lift and then turned to the door and walked through. It was pitch black. Unable to feel a light switch on the wall, l returned to the basement and found it right beside the entrance. Yes! I thumped the air and flicked the switch. Back in the corridor, the passageway was now adequately lit for me to see it had been completed. I had no idea how long it was, or if it had an entrance to the underground station at the other end, but from what I could see, it would accommodate all the patients and staff when the hospital gets bombed.
Perfect. Ahhh! Oh my god, rats! I stood there … frozen to the spot as I watched one of them run through my foot, and then scurry off down the passage while others ran around in circles, bumping into each other as if they were blinded by the unfamiliar light. These weren’t your normal everyday rats. If I had a saddle handy, I could ride one—they were huge!
For crying out loud, stop exaggerating. They can’t see me, let alone touch me! As I shuddered with disgust, I heard Mildred shouting and knocking hard on the other side. I scooted off, rushing so fast through the door, I went through Mildred, as well.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that!” she yelled. “It’s a right weird feelin’ havin’ you go inside me.’ She paused and gave me one of her twisted looks, and then added a mischievous grin. “Just a thought. If you put your head in me stomach, would you be able t’ see what I had for breakfast?”
“Mildred!” I laughed. “That’s disgusting. Trust you to think of something like that—I don’t know, and don’t intend to find out. Did you find the key?”
Mildred lifted her hand up and jangled a whole bunch of them. “I didn’t know if one of these were it, so I brought the lot. Let’s have a look.”
A few minutes later all the keys had been tried and discarded. “Now what?” Without waiting for an answer, Mildred moved back and then rushed towards the door and shouldered it. “Ouch!”
“Oye, what’s going on out here? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Mildred and I spun around and found ourselves staring at a middle-aged man dressed in green overalls and standing in the mortuary doorway. He frowned, his eyes flaring with anger. “Why have you taken all my boxes off the racks … It’s Mildred, isn’t it?”
“Yes, hello, Bill.” Mildred threw me a desperate look.
My face scrunched up as I tried to think of a plausible reason. In the end it was Mildred who came up with an excellent one. Marching with long, determined strides across the room, she turned and pointed to the door. “Bill, perhaps you could help me. I want t’ get that door open, but none of these keys fit.”
He looked at the bunch Mildred was showing him, his forehead once again creasing into a frown. “Why would you want to open it? It hasn’t been used since I came to work here. It occurred to me that there had to be a reason for it, or they wouldn't have put the racks there.”
“Well, I were thinkin’ ‘bout the bombin’ last night, and remembered me friend tellin’ me the shop she were workin’ in practiced gettin’ all their customers t’ safety. I got t’ thinkin’ it’d be a good idea t’ do that with the patients.” She threw me a look, and I smiled and gave her the thumbs up. “Then I got t’ thinkin’ it’d be no good us gettin’ them out in the street, because it would be like takin’ them from one death trap t’ another. Someone told me there were a door down here in the basement, linkin’ the hospital t’ the underground, so I thought I’d come ‘n check it out.”
I was watching Bill’s face and could see by the way he was nodding that he agreed with what Mildred was saying. “So, you’re wondering if that’s what’s behind this door, and if it would be a good escape route?”
“Yes … what do you think? The thing is, I can’t find the key,” she said, jangling the keys in front of him again. “Like I said, it’s not one of these.”
“There’s a load hanging on hooks inside my cupboard. I’ll go and get them,” he told her, already moving away.
“That were a stroke of luck,” Mildred murmured under her breath.
“Yes—and well done. That was a touch of genius, Mildred."
Her face lit up with a broad grin as she pointed to her head. “This old noddle of mine works well when I needs it t'.”
“Here we are,” Bill called out as he hurried to the door. After studying the labels on various keys, he found the right one, and unlocked the door. “You found the light switch, then,” he said, sounding surprised when he saw the light was on. He then stepped back to allow Mildred to walk through first. “So, how are you planning to get all the patients down here?”
“That’ll be the problem, Bill. The walkin’ wounded can come down on their own, and the wheelchair patients can use the lifts. But that don’t help those ones who’ve got serious injuries. We’ll be needin’ some strong stretcher-bearers for them.” She walked a few paces into the passage way and tried to look down the corridor. “How far do you think the patients'll have t’ walk?”
He shrugged. “I donno ... but the station is about half a mile away, give or take, so I'da thought it would be about the same from down here. When do you want to do this practice run?”
“Now. We don’t knows when they’ll be comin’ t’ bomb us again. It could even be tonight.”
Bill looked thoughtful as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Okay, then we’d better get cracking. Who’ve you told?”
“No one yet. I wanted t’ suss this out before I did, but I know just the person t’ ask,” she answered in her nonchalant way, as they walked over to the lift.
Up on the ground floor, Mildred quickly searched for, and found, Tommy. Knowing time was getting short, she explained her idea.
Tommy looked around at all the patients on his floor, his face not giving anything away. “There’s a lot of people here, not to mention all the patients on the other floors.” He sucked in his bottom lip as if he was thinking about it.
Mildred threw me an exasperated look. “Think of it this way, Tommy. If the Germans come back t’night, which is possible, we don’t want t’ be sittin’ here waitin’ t’ be blown t’ bits, do we? I think we should do something now, see how many we can get t’ safety, and how quick we can do it.”
“You’re right, as always,” he told her with such a gentle smile, it caught me off guard.
Am I missing something here? No, don’t be daft. You’re always reading too much into simple things. Of course Mildred and Tommy will have built up some sort of bond with all the stress they've had to deal with these last few days.
“Right then, let’s get the show on the road.” Tommy turned around and called to a nurse who was making her way towards the door. “Margaret, will you nip up to the first and second floor and tell the ward matrons to come here … as fast as you can. You can tell them it’s urgent.” As she ran off, Tommy told a nearby man to stop what he was doing, and go and round up all the porters.
It didn’t take long before he was explaining Mildred’s idea to everyone assembled in the hall outside the ward. Listening to advice from both the porters and the matrons, a plan was rapidly formulated. Soon, even the able-bodied patients and some of the visitors were coming up to offer Tommy their help.
One important thing I hadn’t thought of was how we could move the patients who had been operated on today. I put my concerns to Mildred.
Her anguished expression told me she hadn’t thought of it, either. She lowered her eyes and studied the floor. “Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, we’s got t’ think of a way, ‘cause I’m not leavin’ a single one of them behind.”
As I watched everyone rush off to start the evacuation, I looked through the window and saw the afternoon light beginning to fade. If they don’t hurry up, it won’t matter, because the Zeppelins will be here long before they’ve finished....
Continued....
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes |
To suss out someone/something = (slang, transitive) To come to understand (a person). We've sussed him out. To manage to work (something) out, to determine (something). We've sussed out how to open the lock.
Thank you again for reading my story. I do appreciate you all so much. If you find any errors, please let me know, I'll be so grateful. This is written in UK English, and Mildred's dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 25
One important thing I hadn’t thought of was how we could move the patients who had been operated on that day. I put my concerns to Mildred.
Her anguished expression told me she hadn’t thought of it, either. She lowered her eyes and studied the floor. “Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, we’s got t’ think of a way, ‘cause I’m not leavin’ a single one of them behind.”
As I watched everyone rush off to start the evacuation, I looked through the window and saw the afternoon light beginning to fade. If they don’t hurry up, it won’t matter, because the Zeppelins will be here long before they’ve finished....
Part 26
I watched as the patients proceeded with the evacuation, their faces expressing a calm, welcome relief. I could only guess that this exercise was giving them some comfort that they would at least stand half a chance of surviving another attack on London. Last night’s bombing had probably scared the life out of them.
Within a half an hour, the top floor had been cleared, apart from two patients who were sitting in their wheelchairs waiting for the lift to come back up.
That wasn’t too bad. With an anxious glance out the window, I could see the light was still holding—but I’d no idea for how much longer.
Mildred came up the stairs just as the lift opened, and the porters pushed the two wheelchairs inside. “I’s had a quick word with Tommy. There were a couple of minor ops done this mornin’, but nothin’ t’ worry about. He’s already had them taken down t’ the basement.” Mildred turned and looked out the window. “How much time d’you reckon we’s got left?”
“I don’t know. Only that they’ll be here after dark.” I frowned as I followed her gaze back to the window. The light had faded even more in the short time since I had last looked. “How’s it going down on the lower floors?”
“Almost clear. They’s been so good,” she said with a broad smile. “They knows it’s for their safety we’s doing it.” She gave one last look around the ward and started to walk towards the stairs. “Oh, I’d best be checking the loos while I’m up here. You never know, there might be someone stuck in there waiting t’ be brought out.”
I went with her, and while she looked inside the ladies, I went into the gents. Both were clear.
There was a hive of activity going on when we reached the first floor. Mildred joined the nurses as they collected the items that might be needed. It had been decided by the matrons that if they were going to have a practice run, they should do it properly. Nurses and the porters who were not needed for wheelchair or stretcher duty were dashing around gathering important things that might be needed in an emergency.
Trollies were soon loaded with necessary essentials, including bandages, portable blood transfusion kits, saline, and other medical equipment. Bottles were filled with water, and any food that visitors had brought in with them had been taken from the patients with the promise they’d be returned when the exercise was finished. Washing trollies that had been brought out of the laundry rooms and filled with sheets and blankets had been taken down to the basement already. Nothing was left to chance, even candles were included.
Most of the injured had already left, leaving a few of the weaker ones to come down with those in wheelchairs and on stretchers who were waiting for the lifts. Now that the top floor had been cleared, it would increase the speed of evacuating the rest of the wards.
With everyone working together, it didn’t take long before all the patients were in the basement and being taken through to the underground passage. It was while I was watching the porters push the wheelchairs through, I heard a commotion coming from somewhere behind me.
“No, I’ve got to go back … it was my father’s watch an’ I’m not leaving it!”
I went up to Mildred, who wasn’t having much success in her attempt to calm a young lad who’d lost a leg. One of the porters tried to convince him that the watch would be safe where it was until we all went back up. I looked at Mildred and pulled a face. We both knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“I don’t care. I promised my dad I’d keep it safe until he comes home after he’s won the war.” I could see the tears welling in his eyes. “I promised him….” The tears fell in a rush now, and I knew what was going to happen next.
“What floor was you on?” Mildred asked, right on cue.
“On the top. I was by the window … next to the tall cupboard,” he said with a sudden flicker of hope in his eyes. “Can you get it for me? … Please!”
I could see the hesitation in her eyes, but even knowing she shouldn’t, she patted the lad on his shoulder and nodded. “I won’t be long,” she yelled as she rushed back to the lift.
“I’ll come with you,” I shouted after her. “Two pairs of eyes’ll be quicker than one.”
It only took a few minutes to get up to the top floor, find the watch, and get back to the lift.
“Did you see how dark it is now? Me stomach’s flippin’ over like a tossed pancake.” Mildred looked down at the watch in her hand. “I couldn’t of just left it … could I?”
I smiled at her. No, she couldn’t—it wasn’t in her nature. “At least we have all the patients out of the hospital in—”
A horrendous screech interrupted me, accompanied by a colossal jolt that threw Mildred to the lift floor as it came to a jarring stop.
Picking herself up, Mildred looked at me—the alarm I saw expressed in her eyes, and the quiver I heard in her voice as she asked what had happened, served to heighten my own fear for her safety. How I wished I could put my arms around her and give her some comfort.
After she'd pressed the button for the basement several times, all to no avail, she turned to me panic stricken. “Them Zeppithingies aren’t here already … are they?”
Shaking my head, I tried to stay positive. “I didn’t hear anything other than the racket the lift made before it stopped. No, we would know if it was a bomb,” I said, trying to sound convincing. “It might be that the engine, or whatever it is that moves this thing up and down, has overheated. Wait a minute before you try again.”
I didn’t like the look of this. If the bombing started, Mildred wouldn’t stand a chance trapped in this metal cage, especially with the lift shaft going up as far as the roof. It stands to reason it would be the first place the bombs would hit.
I counted the seconds as they ticked by. “Try again.”
I watched her finger jab the button, not once, but half a dozen times, and when it let out a sharp, grinding sound, we both jumped. But it didn’t make any difference, the lift was going nowhere.
“I wonder where we are. If we’re not far from the basement, perhaps someone will hear you if you start yelling loud enough. Give it a go.”
Mildred did her best to shout as loud as she could. I was sure someone would hear her, and if they didn’t, they must all be deaf.
“It’s no good. If I shouts any louder me tonsils’ll get in a knot. Perhaps we’re too far away.” She paced up and down, wringing her hands together. “OH!”
The lift jerked again, dropping a few more feet, then stopped. Mildred and I looked at each other before she shouted out. “Look!”
When I followed her finger to where she was pointing, I could see the top of the gate was now in view. “P’raps we can get outta here!” She laid down to get a closer look at where we were, and I poked my head through the floor.
The lift had stopped about eighteen inches down the exit gate.
“It’s the basement, Mildred. Start shouting again. I can see someone over the other side.” I stood up and gauged the gap that Mildred would have to be pulled through. “If they would come over and open the gate, I know you’ll be able to slide through there.”
The explosion, when it came, caught us unawares. Oh, God help us, they've arrived!
Mildred let out a scream loud enough to waken Tutankhamen in his tomb. The next voice we heard was like balm to the soul.
“Mildred! Mildred!” Tommy shouted. “Hold on. I’m going to get you out!”
Stretching out on the floor, again, Mildred lay there, ready to be pulled through.
“Don’t worry … nearly there.”
I watched as Tommy pulled back the gate which allowed him to reach up for Mildred, but before their hands could touch, there was another explosion ... and this time it was a direct hit...
Continued…
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you again for reading my story. I appreciate all the help and encouragement you have all given me. If you do see anything that needs to be corrected, I am always happy to have then pointed out. This is written in UK English, with Mildred's county dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 26
The explosion, when it came, caught us unawares. Mildred let out a scream loud enough to waken Tutankhamen in his tomb. The next voice we heard was like balm to the soul.
“Mildred! Mildred!” Tommy shouted. “Hold on, I’m going to get you out!”
Stretching out on the floor, again, Mildred lay there, ready to be pulled through.
“Don’t worry … nearly there.”
We watched as Tommy pulled back the gate allowing him to reach up for Mildred, but before their hands could touch, there was another explosion….
Chapter 27
“MILDRED! GRAB MY HANDS….” Tommy’s piercing shriek cut through the nightmare unfolding around us.
“OH LORDY!” She stretched out her arms, with her fingers extended as far as she could. At that same instant, a malevolent roar from above ripped through my ears and had me bending over her in a futile attempt to offer protection.
Noises I’d never heard before, fused with the screams of terror from the last few people still in the basement, reverberated all around. The screech and grind of metal on metal were sounds from hell that made me turn my head to look upwards and watch the roof start to buckle, squashing the sides of the lift down to fold like a cardboard box while I stared in horrified silence.
Tommy’s hands grasped at Mildred’s wrists and wrenched her out into his arms, just as the lift gave up any attempt to hold back the weight that pressed down on it. Crushed by tons of metal and rubble from above, it came crashing to the ground. A couple of milliseconds later, and Mildred would have been as squashed as this lift is now. God forbid!
The resulting cloud of dust and smoke made it almost impossible to see, but as I extracted myself from the mangled lift, I could vaguely make out Tommy grabbing Mildred’s hand and pulling her towards the underground door. A porter rushed out to usher the remaining patients into the passageway. Without a moment to spare, they raced inside. The door slammed shut behind them as all the lights went out, which made it impossible for me to see anything else.
But not for long. A spine-chilling roar made me look up in time to see a ball of flames being sucked down the shaft. I’d heard about back-drafts, but never seen one, and I never want to see one again. Although it couldn’t burn me, I instinctively jumped out of the way of the blazing fire. Fuelled by anything combustible, it ravenously sped its way down to the basement on its journey of destruction.
What the hell were the Powers-that-be thinking, leaving Mildred there for so long? An unnatural fury hit me as I knew it wouldn’t have been beyond them to have taken the lift down to safety before the attack started.
I heard more explosions and prayed the underground passage would withstand the blast. The loud rumbles from the collapsing building made me wonder how many would have survived if we hadn’t completed the evacuation in time. At least the Powers got that right!
By the time I ran through the door, all hell had let loose as the patients were being taken farther down the passageway in a state of shock. The panic and confusion didn’t surprise me now that the practice run had turned into the real thing. People retched and coughed as they tried to clear their throats from the thick dust that must have choked them before the door was shut, and names were being called from people desperate to find someone they’d lost in the mad dash to get everyone to safety. I had no idea if the door from the basement was fireproof, but I had to pray that it was because I knew no one would survive if it wasn’t.
The atmosphere in the tunnel was a mixture of anxiety and relief. Many of the patients had already suffered as a result of the Zeppelin bombings, but this time it was different. They had been saved from certain death, and although visibly shaken by the experience, the look of disbelief was etched on each and every face. Those that were standing hugged each other as the tears ran down their cheeks, and the people confined to trolleys and wheelchairs reached out and grabbed each other’s hands.
“MILDRED!” I shouted as I hurried down the passageway looking at everyone as I passed. I knew Tommy had got her through the door before it was shut, but I had no idea if she'd been injured before he managed to pull her from the lift.
After a few minutes of shouting out her name, I began to panic. It was hard to see because the patients were now dependent on candlelight, which cast a dull, eerie light that sent grotesque shadows waving on the passage walls. I was sure all this contributed to the terror of the children crying for their parents.
When I eventually found Mildred, she was talking to a very happy looking lad who was clutching his father’s watch to his chest. I let out a sigh of relief before rushing to her side. “Thank God you're okay,” I gasped. “I thought you were a goner when the bombing started.”
“Oh Lordy, Miss Veronica, there’s you are! I’ve been worried sick about you. I’m okay, Tommy made sure of that.”
I could see she was shaken, but the Mildred I knew and loved was putting on a brave face. “I’m taking it that everyone managed to get into the passageway before the bombing started. The last I saw was Tommy and you going through the door and it being closed behind you. Then the lights went out. When I made a dash over, I didn’t see any stragglers left behind. It would be nice to be sure, though.”
Mildred gave the lad a hug, before turning away from him so he couldn't see her talking to me. “I reckon we got them all out, Miss Veronica,” she muttered under her breath. “So, don’t you go worrying none. At least we’s safe for now. Tommy’s gone t’ check on his patients. He’s been worryin’ about a couple who’s got more serious wounds. When he’s done, we’s got t’ decide what we’s goin’ t’ do next.”
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The strength of the door that separated all these people from the raging inferno on the other side was still worrying me to death. When I put my concerns to Mildred, her eyes widened and her hands shot to her mouth.
“Then we's got a bigger problem than we thought, Miss Veronica!”
“Why?”
“Because one of the porters volunteered t’ go up ahead and see if the passageway was connected t’ the underground, like you said … and it's not good news….”
Continued…,
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you again for reading my story, I really appreciate your support. If you find any errors, please let me know. I thank you sincerely in advance. This is in UK English and Mildred's local dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 27
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The strength of the door that separated all these people from the raging inferno on the other side was still worrying me to death, and when I put my concerns to Mildred, her eyes widened and her hands shot to her mouth.
“Then we's got a bigger problem than we thought, Miss Veronica!”
“Why?”
“Because one of the porters volunteered t’ go up ahead and see if the passageway was connected t’ the underground, like you said … and it's not good news….”
Chapter 28
I looked into Mildred’s eyes, searching for the teasing smile, but it wasn’t there. For crying out loud! What else can go wrong? I took a deep breath. “Why? What did he find?” I asked, surprised at how calm my voice sounded.
Clearly anxious, Mildred wrung her hands together as she looked back at me. “He said he hadn’t gone very far when he came t’ a dead-end. Seems like they never finished the passageway t' the underground when the hospital were built. Oh Lordy, Miss Veronica …what’s we gonna do?”
I was about to say I didn't have a clue, when I heard a scream.
“THERE’S SMOKE COMING THROUGH FROM THE BASEMENT,” someone yelled at the top of his voice. An unnerving silence followed as everyone looked towards the door, and then, as one person, they all turned and surged towards us, shrieking in fear with children crying as the panic took hold.
Mildred and I exchanged a look that said it all. Of course the entrance door to the tunnel wasn't a fire door—we were in 1915, for goodness sake. They probably didn't have such things back then.
“There must be a way out of here,” I shouted above the din. “If there isn't, everyone here will be killed by smoke inhalation when the door burns through.”
Mildred grabbed a candle off one of the porters before running down the passageway with me in hot pursuit. “You’re right. The porter must’ve missed it and we’s gotta find it!” she hollered over her shoulder. “Them powers-that-flaming-be wouldn’t have gone t’ all this trouble t’ get us t’ evacuate the hospital, only t’ be smoked like flippin' kippers!”
If it hadn’t been such a dire situation, I would have burst out laughing. But, what if there isn’t another way out? What if another one of those God forsaken fireballs comes ripping through the passage when the door burns through? What if … STOP IT! I closed my eyes and tried to rid myself of the horrifying images floating around inside my head of people on fire … Mildred on fire! No! Mildred’s right, the powers wouldn't do that … They wouldn’t!
Sure enough, after we’d been running for a few minutes, we could make out the end of the passage, which appeared to be in a state of abandonment. We moved closer, and Mildred held up the candle so we could clearly see how the rock and earth had been cut away and then left unfinished. It was as if everyone had downed tools and walked away at some point during or after the building of the hospital.
Mildred groaned as I watched her shoulders slump. “Well, we’s not gonna get through that! Looks like we’s come t’ the end of the line, as they says.”
“No! We can’t give up. There’s got to be a way; we’ve just got to find it.” I felt a rush of optimism spur me on. No way were my friend and all these patients going to die. I didn’t doubt for a moment that the powers-that-be would take her out of here if the worst came to the worst, as they had when she’d been incarcerated in Holloway Prison. They wouldn’t have sent us here to fail. “Come on, Mildred, there must be a door or something that we’ve missed.”
It might have been the sound of determination in my voice, but, whatever the reason, Mildred became as animated as I was. We started feeling the walls, stopping to check out any differences there might be. When I felt something cold and smooth, I let out a squeal of delight. “Yes!”
“What? What’ve you found?” Mildred came dashing over and I pointed out the black metal door.
“I can understand how the porter missed it; it’s not easy to see in in here. Bring your candle closer so we can see what we have here,” I told her, grinning excitedly. It was indeed a door, but where did it go? It came as no surprise to find it locked, and Mildred began pounding on it with her fists in the hope someone on the other side would hear her.
After a couple of minutes banging on the door with fierce determination, she stopped and looked back at me with a desperate look in her eyes. “It’s no good, Miss Veronica. There’s nobody there t' hear us.”
“Then I’ll damn well have to find someone!” I yelled furiously before running through the door.
“But, Miss Veronica—you’s not gonna be able t’…”
Mildred’s voice faded when I passed through the door and stood on the other side. Still shaking with anger, I stood in the darkness and felt the walls for a light switch; to my dismay, there was none.
Now what? Think Veronica, think!
While feeling around, I discovered that this passageway had only half the width of the one Mildred and I had just run down. But where does it go? I’m certain we’ve walked far enough to be some distance from the hospital basement. What if another bomb landed on whatever was at the other end of this passageway, as well?
I didn’t have the luxury of time to sit around and ponder all the possibilities, so, running my fingers along the wall as I went, I moved quickly along until I could see light filtering under the doorway up ahead. I prayed it was good news because, with a bit of luck, whatever I found on the other side would not have been bombed.
When I passed through the door, the sudden glare blinded me for a moment and it took a few seconds to get my bearings. Once I could focus, I could see I was standing in a basement of some sort; it was a fraction of the size of the one at the hospital. I studied the room and decided it must belong to one of the businesses situated on the high street between the hospital and the underground. There were several racks of fabric, large work tables spread across the room, and foot-pedal sewing machines positioned along one wall.
It appeared to be a workroom for tailors or dressmakers, but with no one around, I couldn’t be sure. Did you really expect to find someone here? For goodness sake, I expect they all ran for cover in the underground when the bombing started. I groaned. “Now what do I do? How can I ask someone to unlock the door if there is no one to ask?” Listening to myself, and the absurdity of the question, I suddenly released a sarcastic retort. “And how are you going to ask someone for help, Veronica, when they can’t bloody hear you?”
Now it really hit me why the powers-that-be had Mildred in physical form, whilst I was invisible. As a team, we were invincible, but alone, I could do nothing to help except check out things when I returned to my own time and offer moral support when I came back again. How could I alert someone to the plight of everyone from the hospital if I couldn’t speak to them?
Dear God, what am I going to do? I’m fast running out of time….
Continued....
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -Gladys' son, a doctor
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill - Mortuary worker
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you again for reading my story. I really appreciate your input. This is written in UK English and Mildred's West County dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 28
It appeared to be a tailors or dressmakers, but with no one around, I couldn’t be sure. Did you really expect to find someone here? For goodness sake, I expect they all ran for cover in the underground when the bombing started. I groaned. “Now what do I do? How can I ask someone to unlock the door if there is no one to ask?”
I couldn’t help, but I suddenly released a sarcastic retort. “And how are you going to ask someone for help, Veronica, when they can’t bloody hear you?”
Now it really hit home why the powers-that-be had Mildred in physical form, whilst I was invisible. As a team, we were invincible, but alone, I could do nothing to help except check out things when I returned to my own time and offer moral support when I came back again. How could I alert someone to the plight of everyone from the hospital if I couldn’t speak to them?
Dear God, what am I going to do? I’m fast running out of time….
Chapter 29
The answer to my prayer was immediate. The piercing sounds of car hooters and shouts of, ‘All clear!’ coming from above, signalled the end of the raid. Thank you, God!
I listened as people began filtering back slowly, as if they had all day. Now coming down the stairs to resume their work, some were describing their tale of terror with passion and enthusiasm. I felt my frustration reach boiling point.
Come on then! For goodness sake, hurry up! I’m going to scream in a minute! With my heart banging against my rib-cage, I felt like throwing things around the room and scaring the hell out of them all, but that wouldn’t do any good. Patience, Veronica, at least they’re back.
Now they were here, I had to find a way to tell them their help was urgently needed to get the people behind the two locked doors out to safety.
With time marching on at the speed of light, it was possible the fire had already burnt its way through the door. This is an absolute nightmare! In desperation, I dashed around looking for something, anything I could use to alert them to the imminent death of many patients, nurses and doctors. Becoming beyond frantic as the sudden realization that I could do nothing more to help, an answer thankfully presented itself.
I stopped and spun on my heels when I saw a man, who had rolled out a bale of cloth on one of the tables, take a piece of chalk out of a container.
Chalk! Of course, that’s perfect! I looked for a piece to write with and saw a cabinet beside the sewing machines. I was about to stick my head through the door to have a look, when one of the men came over and opened it. As fast as a shooting star, my arm zipped out and knocked over the box of chalk that stood visibly on the bottom shelf.
An angry cuss escaped his lips. “Why can’t people put things back properly,” the man grumbled as he bent to pick them up.
While he was occupied with the task, I picked up a stray piece that had rolled towards me and hid it behind a machine until he’d finished and moved away. Next, I have to find something to write on.
Studying the tables, I noticed one with a roll of black cloth, ready and waiting to be used. My stomach was doing somersaults as I bent low to stop the chalk being seen as I moved across the room. I didn’t want to frighten everyone off before I’d reached the table.
Once there, I was able to put the chalk down and get an idea of how heavy the roll would be to push. Was I capable of getting it to move? Focusing my attention, I gave it a shove. It rolled over once, giving me a few inches—if I could get it to roll over a couple more times, it would give me enough room to write a message on. At last, something is actually going right for a change!
Now I was ready for them, but first I had to get their attention. Answers to my problems were coming quickly as I spotted, and then pushed, a tin of pins off the end of the table.
“For cryin’ out loud! What’s going on down here?” bellowed the man who’d picked up the chalk. He went to the bottom of the stairs and yelled out for someone called Peter to come down immediately.
A young lad bounced down with a worried look on his face. “Pick those pins up,” the man ordered in a tone that clearly revealed his growing impatience.
“Yes, Sir, Mr Edwards,” Peter mumbled as he hurried over to pick up the offending pins.
Before he turned to go back to his machine, I pushed the roll as hard as I was able, and watched it turn over once more. Mr Edwards stepped closer, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. One more push would do it. This time he jumped back, positively shaken as he looked around at the rest of the men sitting at their stations. I could see the suspicion in his eyes, but it was obvious none of them was close enough to have moved the roll.
He called another man over. “Somethin’ ain’t right ‘ere, Herbert. Watch,” he told him.
“Watch what?” Everyone was now coming over to see what was going on.
Stay where you are, my friends, and you’ll soon find out. I grinned as I picked up the chalk and moved across to write my message.
“What the hell? Holy Moses, I’m getting’ outta here!” The commotion and yells of fear saw them shouting and thrashing around, bumping into each other as they fought their way over to the stairs.
“NO! Come back!” I screamed! “Please … come back, we need you!” I watched as the last man disappeared up the stairs. “Oh, you fool! Why didn’t you write the message first? You should have known the flying chalk would frighten them.” I could have cried. My last hope gone, and there was nothing else I could do.
I moved back to the door, feeling an utter failure. “Damn you, Powers! What the hell did you send me back for?” I shouted angrily. “Is this your idea of fun? You’re monsters, do you hear me? MONSTERS!”
I had to get back to Mildred and find out what was happening. I gave a last angry look up at the ceiling and then as my eyes trailed down … “Oh my God! It’s not locked … it’s bolted!”
I reached up to pull the bolt back, but it was too stiff to move. “Ahh! I don’t believe it!” I need something to hit it with. I looked over at the nearest table and saw a pair of scissors. “That should do it … if I can lift them.” I could. As fast as a whippet, I dashed back and frantically gave the curved end of the rod a bash—it moved slightly but not enough. Desperate now, I hit the curve in a frenzied attack until the bolt was free.
“Please, don’t let me be too late!” I cried out as I ran along the corridor, the scissors still clutched in my hand. Was it too much to hope that the door to the hospital passage was also bolted, and I just hadn’t noticed in my rush to find someone to help?
Once there, I frantically felt around the top and bottom of the door. “Yes!” I cried out when I eventually found the bolt. But, like the one leading from the workroom, this bolt was stiff, too. The anger I felt surpassed anything I’d felt with the first one.
“Bloody hell! If you’re looking down, I’m telling you now, don’t you ever show your sorry faces to me!” I felt sure I was losing my mind as I struck out at the bolt, using the scissors like a woman possessed, swearing and cursing as I did. I was crying for real now because I was so desperate and scared.
Then, at last, the bolt was pushed along enough for the door to open, and I dreaded what I might find on the other side….
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette. Now a ghost who was murdered by her husband,
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
For new readers who haven’t read the first book in the Trilogy and might be wondering how Veronica can touch and lift items without having a solid body. This is a short explanation of how it came about.
In the early days of her time-travelling, Veronica was placed inside the body of the person she was assigned to help.
While inside a young 12-year-old girl named Alice, (aunt Alice in this book) the girl was often punished by Sir John, (her grandfather) and put into the cold, dark cellar. On one occasion, she fell down the steps and cracked her head on the concrete ground. Veronica was thrown out of Alice’s body, and that was when she met the ghost of Lady Ann, who was murdered with the Vicar Peter by her husband, Sir John. She couldn’t rest until their bodies had been brought out of the cesspit her husband had thrown them both down, and given a Christian burial
While trapped with no way to get home after her host body, Alice, had been taken unconscious to hospital, Veronica was taught by Lady Ann how to walk through walls and doors, and to lift lightweight things like small books, jewellery, and money, and also how to write messages.
Hope that helped!
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading my story, I appreciate all the input you've been giving me, and for letting me know when errors have been spotted. This is written in UK English. xxx |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 29
Once there, I frantically felt around the top and bottom of the door. “Yes!” I cried out when I eventually found the bolt. But, like the one leading from the workroom, this bolt was stiff, too. The anger I felt surpassed anything I’d felt with the first one.
“Bloody hell! If you’re looking down, I’m telling you now, don’t you ever show your sorry faces to me!” I felt sure I was losing my mind as I struck out at the bolt, using the scissors like a woman possessed, swearing and cursing as I did. I was crying for real now because I was so desperate and scared.
At last! The bolt was pushed along enough for the door to open, and I dreaded what I might find on the other side….
Part 30
I didn't have to wait to find out. The door was pushed open with such force, the sea of patients leaning against it slammed through my body as they staggered through the open door from the smoke-filled corridor.
“MILDRED?” I called as I searched the faces of the people pouring past me. I couldn’t distinguish one from the other because they were holding wet pieces of cloth over their mouths and noses to guard against inhaling the deadly smoke, but I was pretty sure none of them was Mildred or she would have answered me.
I called again, and still not hearing a response, I went into the corridor. Just beyond the open door, I could see Tommy administering oxygen to the patients on trolleys. He took a gasp of air himself before turning to one of the porters. “Have you seen Mildred?” he asked in a choked voice.
“Last time I saw her she was working her way back down towards the hospital handing out wet cloths for people to breathe through. Do you want me to go and check if she's okay?”
I could see Tommy was between a rock and a hard place. Of course he wanted someone to check if Mildred was alright, but the need to get everyone out of the passageway as quickly as possible took precedence.
“No, we'll just have to hope she doesn't put herself at any more risk than necessary,” he gasped, before taking another quick gulp of air and placing the oxygen mask over the face of another patient. “Is there light on the other side of the door?” he asked another porter who had grabbed one of the trolleys and was steering it towards the opening.
“Afraid not, Doctor,” the man shouted back. “It’s another corridor much like this one, but lots narrower. We've still got plenty of candles, though, so we should be okay. I just hope it’s not another locked door at the other end.”
I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction. What if I hadn't been able to pull the bolt that was on the inside of the workroom door before opening the one into this corridor? The thought didn't bear thinking about. Now that I'd scared all the workers away with my 'chalk' antics, there would be nobody else to open it for the escaping patients. A smile hovered on my lips as I thought about it. I couldn’t imagine what the employees would think when everyone from the hospital started filtering up from the basement.
Assured that everyone would be able to get to safety, I started running down the corridor to find Mildred. I knew what she was like, and her own safety would be the last thing on her mind.
Some people I passed, who’d been on their hands and knees struggling to keep their heads below the smoke, were now trying to stand up. Word had filtered down the queue of terrified and desperate people that those up ahead were escaping from the smoke. Still keeping their wet cloths over their faces, they all gathered their remaining strength to follow them.
I’d reached what I thought was the end of the queue when I finally spotted her in the swirls of smoke a few yards farther down the corridor. She had created a train of three wheelchairs, each patient holding on to the handles of the patient in front, and she was pushing from behind with all her might. Although she had a piece of material tied around her face covering her mouth and nose, I could see she was still struggling to breathe. “Mildred, thank God I’ve found you! Are you okay?”
“Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, I were about set t’ give up on ...” A rasping cough had her doubled over, her face scrunched up in pain.
“I managed to get the door open, and everyone is going through it and getting away from the smoke. It’s not far ahead. Do you think you can make it?”
“I don't rightly know.… I keep comin' over all dizzy. Oh, Miss Veronica, I’m right glad you’s got the door open. Will everyone be gettin’ out alive?”
“Yes, everyone. Now let’s get you, and these patients out, as well.”
My assurance seemed to give her a new burst of energy and determination, but I could see it wasn't enough to push the human train of wheelchair passengers she’d created. Now they were no longer moving; everyone had let go of the handles in front of them and were beginning to cry hysterically.
So, working on the basis that I had enough power to pick up heavy scissors and knock two bolts open, I emptied my mind the way the ghost of Lady Ann had taught me. I was delighted to find I could take hold of the handles on the first wheelchair.
“I’ve got this one, Mildred,” I shouted as I started pushing. I had no idea how the patient was reacting to the experience of moving with no apparent assistance because I couldn't see her face. But if she thought it strange, she said nothing and just hung on for dear life.
Helped by the slight downward slope, the wheelchair soon gathered pace. Within a couple of minutes, I could see lights up ahead where a porter was helping the last of the patients.
“There's more of us!” the woman in the wheelchair screeched hysterically at the poor man. All the other porters were taking patients along the new passageway, which was also beginning to fill with smoke from the hospital corridor, so I doubted if he could help.
“How many?” he asked, his troubled eyes flitting from one patient to another.
“Two, plus Mildred. I don't think she'll be strong enough to get them here. You've got to help her!”
I could almost read the man’s mind as he looked back to the last few patients going through the door. Without any hesitation, he told one of the able-bodied patients to push the woman in the wheelchair into the other corridor. He then picked up one of the abandoned oxygen tanks and a mask Tommy had been using. With one last backward glance, the porter put on the mask and took off at a gallop into the smoke. I was seeing first-hand the bravery of a man who would make sure everyone was saved before he tried to save himself.
By the time he reached Mildred, she had collapsed to her knees, still hanging on to the handles of the last wheelchair in the convoy. Within seconds, he had taken off the oxygen mask and held it over her mouth. He took a quick gulp himself and then passed the tank and mask to the woman in the second wheelchair and told her to hold onto the handles of the one in front.. “Are you strong enough to follow me if I take these two ladies, Mildred?” he shouted over his shoulder.
“Course I am,” she gasped with a strained smile. “You get on.… I'll be right behind you.”
As he disappeared down the dimly lit corridor, I rushed to Mildred's side. She was a deathly shade of grey, and the effort to stand up was clearly too much. “Come on, Mildred. You have to get out of here!”
The Mildred I knew, the woman who had the constitution of an ox and the determination of a warrior, seemed to have given up. The look she gave me was that of someone resigned to her imminent death. Her eyes began to glaze over as she slumped backwards, banging her head on the concrete floor as she hit it with a sickening thud.
“MILDRED!” I screeched as I fell to my knees, by her side.
The slow spread of bright red blood coming from the back of her head had me screaming hysterically. There was nobody left to help her. Even if there was, I had no way of telling them. My dearest friend was dying, and the bloody powers-that-be had deserted us, betrayed us, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it....
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes |
Thank you for reading my book. I appreciate anyone pointing out SPAGS when you find them. This is written in UK English.
For new readers who haven't read the first book in the Trilogy and might be wondering how Veronica can touch and lift items without having a solid body. This is a short explanation of how it came about. In the early days of her time-travelling, Veronica was placed inside the body of the person she was assigned to help. While inside a young 12-year-old girl named Alice, (aunt Alice in this book) the girl was often punished by Sir John, (her grandfather) and put into the cold, dark cellar. On one occasion, she fell down the steps and cracked her head on the concrete ground. Veronica was thrown out of Alice's body, and that was when she met the ghost of Lady Ann, who was murdered with the Vicar Peter by her husband, Sir John. She couldn't rest until their bodies had been brought out of the cesspit her husband had thrown them both down, and given a Christian burial While trapped with no way to get home after her host body, Alice, had been taken unconscious to hospital, Veronica was taught by Lady Ann how to walk through walls and doors, and to lift lightweight things like small books, jewellery, and money, and also how to write messages. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 30
The Mildred I knew, the woman who had the constitution of an ox and the determination of a warrior, seemed to have given up. The look she gave me was that of someone resigned to her imminent death. Her eyes began to glaze over as she slumped backwards, banging her head on the concrete floor as she hit it with a sickening thud.
“MILDRED!” I screeched as I fell to my knees by her side.
The slow spread of bright red blood coming from the back of her head had me screaming hysterically. There was nobody left to help her, and even if there was, I had no way of telling them. My dearest friend was dying, and the bloody powers-that-be had deserted us, betrayed us, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it..
Unknown Time
“Going from the looks on your faces, I gather you know why I’ve called this emergency meeting?” Jowell looked grim as he studied the others sitting opposite him. Not receiving a response, he walked to the end of the long table and filled a goblet with red wine. Holding the flagon up, he turned and asked if anyone else would also like some.
“What were you thinking?” Leif demanded, ignoring Jowell’s offer. He twisted around in his seat to face him. “Veronica is furious about the danger we put Mildred in.”
“And she has every right to be!” Petro burst in angrily, his rage seeping from every part of his body. His stiff, upright posture, the rigid thrust of his chin, to the fire in his eyes and the clenching and unclenching of his hands indicated his intense fury. “Why wasn’t Mildred taken out of that lift when the bomb hit earlier? Why wasn’t it made easier for Veronica to get that door open? And, most disturbing of all, why is Mildred lying unconscious on the ground with her life blood pouring out of her? Serious mistakes have been made, and I don’t like it one bit.”
The strained undercurrent in the air, and the subsequent silence was disturbing. Petro had never lost his temper like this before.
Jowell came back to the table and took a large gulp of his wine before sitting and putting the goblet down. Not acknowledging either Petro or Leif, his fingers rhythmically tapped the table as he stared over their heads.
“Petro and Leif are absolutely right to raise these questions,” Kraid said, breaking into the tense unease, and, in his quiet placating way, he tried to calm the situation. “We’ve made some dreadful mistakes and lessons have to be learned from this fiasco. Instead of us apportioning blame, we must ensure these things never happen again.”
A deep sigh escaped from Jowell as he rubbed his hand over his face. “Of course, I take full responsibility. I’ve become complacent whilst observing Veronica. She has dealt with every assignment with outstanding ease, and although that is no excuse, it was because of that I let the sequence of events unfold normally. I should have stepped in long ago.” Jowell again stared off into the distance to a spot that was more in his head than in the room. “I could have made changes, and didn’t. So—”
“I take it you will not stand by and let Mildred die? You do realise she can’t be brought back to life again so soon after the last time?” Petro cut in. “There would be serious repercussions if you do!” Everyone knew this wasn’t a question. He was demanding Mildred be saved.
Jowell only nodded. “So, … As I was about to say, I’m sending them both back to their own time for a while to recover from this ordeal, and hopefully, we can get back on track. The Vice Admiral is now the top priority, and Mildred’s friendship with his son gives us an advantage. I’ll make sure she is returned before he notices she’s missing, though, or precious time could be wasted. In future, if anyone has the slightest concern regarding what’s happening, bring it to my attention immediately, and we’ll have another meeting.”
1996
As I paced the floor in the hospital waiting room, my mind went over the events of the last few hours. I felt relieved that we’d been sent back to our own time, but I was still angry with the powers-that-be. I couldn’t stop feeling worried because Mildred was still unconscious.
None of it should have happened! I won’t forgive them for putting her life in danger like that.
James had arrived with the ambulance because I called him rather than the emergency services. After putting a temporary dressing on Mildred’s head, he allowed the crew to take her out on the stretcher. At the hospital, he tried to calm my nerves while she was having x-rays taken. “It looks worse than it is, Love. Head wounds always bleed a lot.” He’d taken hold of my hands and lowered his voice. “I’ll tell them the chip-pan caught alight after she’d tripped and fallen in the kitchen. You can fill me in later as to what really happened.”
Now I was waiting for him to come back with some news. Good news, I hope! I closed my eyes and yawned. I felt so weary, mentally as well as physically. Give me a pillow to lay my head on and I’ll sleep for a week.
“Would you please come and talk to your obstinate friend!” James said as he walked into the waiting room, bringing me out of my thoughts. “She’s being as stubborn as ever, and won’t stay in bed!”
I jumped up, searching James’ face. “She’s conscious?”
“Oh, yes. Very conscious!” His laughing eyes contradicted his exasperated tone. “She’s asking for you. Come on, before she brings the place down.”
I laughed and ran over to him, throwing myself into his arms. “My hero! Thank you, Darling! Where is she?”
James laughed and kissed me on the tip of my nose. “Follow me.” He led me to where Mildred was supposed to be resting. What she was doing, in fact, was sitting on the side of the bed, dressed in a very unattractive hospital gown, with her head neatly bandaged up.
“Oh Lordy, Miss Veronica, what’m I doin’ in here? Where’s me clothes?”
“Mildred! You’ve had a nasty crack on the head. You can’t be getting up and jumping around yet, my lady!” I was so pleased to see she was all right, I dashed over and gave her a hug.
James threw her one of his, ‘I’m the doctor here, so do as you’re told,’ looks as he came and stood beside me. Ignoring her scowl, he checked her pulse and blood pressure. He then took a slim pencil torch out of his pocket and shone it in each of her eyes. “How are you feeling, Mildred? And no fibs!”
“Me head’s a bit sore, and me throat feels like someone’s bin rubbin’ sandpaper over it, but that’s all. Them’s normal things that everyone gets. Not reason enough t’ take a bed away from someone else who’s needin’ it more’n me.”
“Look, I’ll make a deal with you. Stay here for the night, and if I think you’ve recovered enough from the smoke inhalation, I’ll let you come home tomorrow. Deal?”
Mildred looked at me, and not getting any support, she scowled again and agreed. “Under protest, though!”
Mildred came home the following day after James gave her the all-clear.
I refused to discuss anything regarding our time-travelling with Mildred until she was back to her perky self. Of course, I told James everything when Mildred was in bed asleep, and I could tell he wasn’t pleased.
“I’m disappointed in your friends, the powers. It seems they’re not as vigilant at looking after you both, after all.” James looked at my hand resting in his and stared at it for a moment. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. If there was a way that I could stop you from going, I would, but I’m as powerless as you in that department.”
The stark look of hopelessness in James’ eyes broke my heart. I moved over and snuggled up to him. “I’ll be fine, Love. I have a feeling the powers-that-be know exactly what I think of them at the moment. But if anything like that happens again on our next assignment, I’ll just sit on the ground and go on strike!”
James’ lips twitched, and then he let out a howl of unrestrained laughter. “You … go on strike? I’d love to see that.” He grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap. “I love you, my militant, beautiful wife.”
“Ooops! P’raps I’d best be knockin’ before I come in?” Mildred chuckled as she stood grinning in the sitting room doorway.
“Get in here, you silly sausage,” I said as I took in the rosy colour of her cheeks and the bright flashes of laughter in her eyes. “You look so much better, Mildred. How are you feeling?”
“I’s fine, thank you, Miss Veronica. Have t’ admit, though, I were surprised at how tired I was. Me head’s stopped its thumpin’ around like a kangaroo’s tail, thank the Lord. Drivin’ me bats, it were.”
“A kangaroo’s tail? What do you know about kangaroos and their tails!” I asked.
Mildred shrugged and grinned. “You wanna watch the tele sometimes. You’d be surprised what you’ll learn.” She came and sat on the armchair and settled back. “Right! Now let’s get down t' the job. What’s happened, and what’s we gonna do?”
I looked at James and winked. “Well, we’ve been talking about our assignment, and we came to the conclusion that the only answer is, you have to kill the Vice Admiral when we go back.”
Mildred’s jaw dropped at the same time as her eyes nearly popped out of her head….
Continued….
Characters
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The powers-that-be
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes |
I've had queries about my sentence, 'In future'. To clear it up, this is what I found when I Googled it. :) xx
In future, please, be more careful. (British English) In the future, please, be more careful. (American English) Thank you for your continued support, I really appreciate you all. If you find any errors, I'll be so pleased if you would point them out. This is written in UK English, and Mildred's own dialect. For new readers who haven't read the first book in the Trilogy and might be wondering how Veronica can touch and lift items without having a solid body. This is a short explanation of how it came about: In the early days of her time-travelling, Veronica was placed inside the body of 12-year-old Alice whom she was assigned to help. When she fell down the cellar steps and cracked her head on the concrete ground, Veronica was thrown out of her body, and that was when she met the ghost of Lady Ann, who had been murdered with her friend the Vicar Peter by her husband, Sir John. She couldn't rest until their bodies had been brought out of the cesspit her husband had thrown them both down, and given a Christian burial. While trapped with no way to get home after her host body, Alice, had been taken unconscious to hospital, Veronica was taught by Lady Ann how to walk through walls and doors, and to lift lightweight things like small books, jewellery, and money, and also how to write messages. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 31
“A kangaroo’s tail? What do you know about kangaroos and their tails!” I asked.
Mildred shrugged and grinned. “You wanna watch the tele sometimes. You’d be surprised what you’ll learn.” She came and sat on the armchair and settled back. “Right! Now let’s get down t' the job. What’s happened, and what’s we gonna do?”
I looked at James and winked. “Well, we’ve been talking about our assignment, and we came to the conclusion that the only answer is, you have to kill the Vice Admiral when we go back.”
Mildred’s jaw dropped at the same time as her eyes nearly popped out of her head….
Part 32
The look on Mildred’s face had James and me in fits of laughter, much to her annoyance.
“That weren’t funny, you two! This delicate heart of mine can’t be doin’ with such traumataters,” she told us as she wagged her finger and tried to look angry. After a moment, she was laughing, too. “So, what’s really goin’ on?”
It occurred to me then, that Mildred didn’t know anything of what I’d discovered. I’d not had a chance to speak to her because we’d been too busy getting the patients out to safety. So, taking a deep breath, I started from the beginning.
Although Mildred listened quietly, I watched many different emotions flit across her face as I worked my way through my horrendous discoveries. When I reached the part concerning the devastating consequences that I’d experienced in an alternate 1996, and what her life would be like if the Vice Admiral succeeded with his plan, she gasped with shock.
I finished by revealing how the death of our friend Gladys had also been at the hands of the Vice Admiral, and that he had got away with it.
“Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica! Now I knows why you wants me t’ bump him off. He’s a nasty bitta work is that one. Can’t even be called human; he’s got t’ be one of the devil’s favourites! We’s got t’ do somethin’ t’ stop him,” she said, her hackles well and truly up now. “He should be locked up an’ the key thrown from a boat in the middle of the ocean. It seems t’ me, your idea’s the only way we can stop him.”
I looked at Mildred, a slight teasing smile curling my lips, and raised one questioning eyebrow. “Could you?”
“Dunno, I don’t remember doin’ it before. Always a first time, I s’pose.”
She looked so po-faced, I thought she meant it, until she burst out laughing. “Gotcha both back!”
“Mildred! You had me going there,” I scolded her playfully.
Her light-hearted banter ceased, and a troubled look immediately replaced the laughter in her eyes. “I dunno what I’d be capable of doin’ if I saw Ann or Michael in desperate trouble by one of them murderin’ devils. Don’t think you’d know, either,” she told us.
I glanced over at James to see his reaction to what Mildred had said, and I could tell it had made quite an impression on him.
“What I do know is,” she continued, “I don’t want t’ be livin’ me life the way you told us it were like in that other world. An’ what about everyone else’s life? Theirs would be a livin’ misery, too, if he goes ahead an’ changes how the war ends. You’s been shown things, Miss Veronica, an’ it’s not somethin’ you wants, either. No Doctor James, and no Ann and Michael.”
I sat down again. Mildred was right. Anyone hurt my children and that person would soon learn first-hand what pain at the highest level feels like! And as bad as life was in the alternate world, to live it without them and James would be just as unthinkable. I couldn’t.
“Well, I don’t like the idea of not being born,” James cut in. “So, we have to stop him. But, murder? No, I don’t think either of you is capable of that, and if you did … I know you wouldn’t be able to live with that on your conscience, even if it was for the right reasons.” He looked at both of us. “Neither of you could.”
I sighed. James was right. “So, we’re back where we started. We can’t kill him, and there is no way we could ever get him to confess to murdering Gladys.”
We all sank into a quagmire of bleak despair. The hopelessness of the situation was too overwhelming to contemplate.
“If we can just get hold of some proof that he murdered Gladys, he wouldn’t be able to change history. He’d be tried for murder and, hopefully, that would put paid to him interfering with the outcome of the war.”
A huge smile broke out on Mildred’s face. “So, that’s what we’s gotta do then," she said brightly. “How’s we goin’ t’ do it?”
I shrugged. “That’s the problem. I don’t know.”
We all sat quietly for a few minutes, each of us trying to come up with something. After a while, I gave a deep sigh. “It’s impossible, isn’t it?”
“I’s not goin’ t’ live in that other time! Lordy, no! I can’t be workin’ all night, or livin’ in one of them wotsits, either.” She shook her head fiercely. “So, let’s go back t’ plan A. How am I goin’ to kill ‘im?”
I stood up and paced the floor. “I can’t really see you swinging an axe into his head—it would be too heavy. Shooting him would be easier, however, you’d need to find a gun … although, I don’t know how hard that would be since there’s a war going on. You’d have to practice using one … but where? I haven't a clue. And then … What am I saying?” I stopped pacing and turned with a grin. “I’m almost convincing myself you could do it!”
“What about poison?” Mildred said, frowning and tilting her head in thought. “That’d be easiest. What could I use, Doctor James? Rat poison?”
We both turned and looked at him, sitting there staring at us as if we’d gone mad. “You’re not serious, are you? You actually believe you could murder a man?” He looked first at me, and then at Mildred. Neither of us answered. “Okay, saying you could … which I seriously doubt, have you thought of the consequences? You could be arrested, Mildred. You told us how much you hated being in Holloway prison, and you’d most likely be sent back there!”
“Them powers would take me out … like they did that last time.” Although Mildred tried to sound confident, I knew she wasn’t feeling it. Not after what she’d just been through.
“That’s as may be,” James told her. “But can you imagine the headlines? It would make front page news, how you, a working girl, murdered a highly respected Vice Admiral. That could really change history.”
I dropped my head back and looking up at the ceiling, I groaned loudly.
“What about Gladys? Couldn’t she help you find some evidence?” James turned to face us, enthused and fired up. “I realise she’s a ghost, but she must know what happened, and how he managed to kill her without leaving any clues. Perhaps she'll have some suggestions you could use to trap him into confessing. If anyone can do it, she can. I mean to say, she was there!”
I looked at Mildred. “That’s not a bad idea. I could have a chat with her, as long as I can find her now that the hospital has gone. Perhaps you could have a quiet word with Tommy, he might open up to you. From what I observed, he’s developed quite a fondness for you.”
A pink flush suffused Mildred’s face, and her expression softened at the mention of his name. “He’s a good doctor, an’ all the patients love him. We didn’t get t’ talk much, but he did mention his mum a couple of times. I think losin' her that way still hurts him. He did tell me he wished he’d been there when she fell. He thinks he might have been able t’ save her. I know he misses her a lot.” She frowned and looked into the distance. “That don’t sound like someone thinkin’ his mum were murdered, though.”
“No, it doesn’t.” James stood up and smiled when he pulled his sleeve back from his wrist to look at his watch. “It’s nearly time for the kids to be picked up. I think I’ll walk down to the school and surprise them. We can talk some more after they’ve gone to bed.”
“They’ll like that. I’d come, too, but I wouldn’t trust our friend here to do as she was told!” I laughed when Mildred thumped my arm.
After James had gone, I looked at Mildred and sighed. “I don’t know how we’re going to work this one out. At least with the other assignments, we had things we could sort out back here in our own time, but with this one….” I shook my head.
“You’re right. So, sayin’ that, we'd be wastin' our time even tryin’. We can’t be doin’ anythin’ at the moment, Miss Veronica. So, let’s be thinkin’ of what Doctor James said. He’s got a good point, you know. If we can find Gladys, we might get somethin’ outta her that will help.” She reached up and scratched around her bandaged head. “This is itchin' like crazy!”
“Leave it alone. If it’s itching, it’s healing,” I told her as I stood up. “I’ll go and put the kettle on, and get the biscuit tin down for the kids. They always come home starving! I don’t know how they’d get on if they had to go hungry for a day or two.”
“I’ve missed them. It’s been ages since I last played with them,” Mildred added as she went to stand up and follow me.
“You stay where you are!”
“Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, I hates all this fussin’ over me. Anyways, I’m much more comfortable in me kitchen. I can sit an’ watch you, and make sure you don’t start flyin' around messin' up me cupboards.”
“Okay, but there’ll be trouble if you even attempt to do anything but sit and talk!” I smiled at her and held out my hand to help her up.
Mildred grinned, knowing she had won the argument. She started reaching out her hand and then stopped, her face alight with triumph. “I knows how we can get him to confess…!”
Continued…
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you all so much for reading my story. As always, I would be very grateful if you point out any errors you might find. This is written in UK English and Mildred's charming dialect. Thank you! |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 32
‘You stay where you are!’
‘Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, I hates all this fussin’ over me. Anyways, I’m much more comfortable in me kitchen. I can sit an’ watch you, and make sure you don’t start flyin' around messin' up me cupboards.’
‘Okay, but there’ll be trouble if you even attempt to do anything but sit and talk!’ I smiled at her and held out my hand to help her up.
Mildred grinned, knowing she had won the argument. She started reaching out her hand and then stopped, her face alight with triumph. ‘I knows how we can get him to confess…!'
Part 33
My hand dropped and I sat back down on the sofa. “How? It would have to be something pretty dramatic to get him to confess.”
Mildred nodded, throwing me one of her knowing smiles. “Me babes’ll be back in a mo', so let’s wait ‘til they’s in bed.”
“I hate it when you do that!” I grumbled as I heaved myself off the sofa again and lent her a hand to get up. “Come on, Meanie, let’s get that kettle on.”
Cold drinks for the children and cups of tea for us adults were all ready by the time Ann and Michael came bounding through the kitchen door, followed by James.
“Auntie Mildred! You’re home again. Does your head hurt you much?” Ann’s expressions flitted from delight to concern as she dashed over to give her aunt a kiss and a hug.
“Course it hurts her,” Michael told his sister, rolling his eyes. “Look at all the bandages. That’s got to be covering a big hole! Could you see your brains through it, Aunty Mildred? I bet you could—can I have a look?”
“Michael! Don’t be silly, of course you can’t see Aunty Mildred’s brain, and NO, you definitely can’t have a look!” I shooed him away from the table. “Go and get changed and put your things away. And don’t forget to wash your hands before you put those mucky fingers in the biscuit tin.”
“Aw, can’t I just have one now?”
James came over and, putting his hands on Michael’s shoulders, steered him towards the door and gave him a gentle little push towards the stairs. “Do as your mother tells you, young man. Go on—up you go.”
I shook my head, trying to hide a grin until he’d left the kitchen. “Little monster. Can he see your brains! Whatever next.”
Mildred chuckled. “He’d have a job, seein’ as I don’t have any.”
Michael was back down in record time and went straight to get a biscuit.
“I hope you hung your school uniform up and didn’t just throw it on the bed,” I said as his hand disappeared inside the tin.
With a mouthful of gingernut biscuit, he said he had, his hand already diving in for another one. “That’s enough for now, young man.”
Moments later, Ann came in and went straight for her orange squash. “If you want a biscuit, you’d better get in there before your brother eats them all,” I told her, slapping Michael’s hand away from the tin as he went for another one.
“It’s alright, Mum, I have to watch my weight,” Ann told me as she gave Michael a disapproving look.
Mildred and I looked at each other and frowned. “What do you mean, watch your weight? Who told you that?” She was far too young to be thinking of diets, and she certainly wasn’t overweight!
“We had a lesson about healthy eating today, and it was all about being aware of what we put in our mouths. My teacher told us there’s too much sugar in sweet things, and that an apple would be much better for our teeth, as well.” She turned and looked at Michael, who was still happily munching away. “You’ll get fat and won’t be able to play football again.”
“Who says?” Michael demanded, spraying bits of biscuit into the air as he spoke.
“Miss Carter. She knows these things," Ann snapped back. "That’s why she’s a teacher!”
“Alright, you two. Michael, don't speak with your mouth full," I scolded before turning to Ann. "Too many sweet things aren’t good for you, your teacher’s right. But you also need some sugar to replenish all the energy you’re using. You have tennis lessons, and you go swimming every week. You’re always running around doing something.” I looked at my normal, slim, fit daughter and frowned. I could understand the teacher mentioning this because there were too many overweight children, but I didn’t want Ann changing her eating habits. As far as I was concerned, she was already eating a balanced, healthy diet.
“So, it’s okay for me to have a biscuit?” Ann asked as her face lit up.
I put my arm around her and smiled. “Of course it is, Sweetheart. I’ll make sure you don’t ruin that lovely figure of yours. If I think you’re eating too much sugar, I’ll tell you.”
After they had both gone off to do their homework, James put his hand in the tin and brought out two biscuits, dunking one in his cup of tea. “I think we’ve just had a glimpse into our little girl’s future,” he said with a wry smile. “I’ve been told a daughter’s teenage years are the most … challenging!”
“Thanks, Dear. We have a lot to look forward to!” I copied him and dunked my biscuit, as well. “Changing the subject, Mildred, here, has an idea about how to get the Vice Admiral to confess. But she won’t tell me until Ann and Michael are in bed.”
“Oh? Can’t you give us a little clue?” We both turned to look at her as I held my breath.
Mildred let out an exasperated sigh. “Patience isn’t somethin’ either of you know much about, is it?” Then she laughed. “I’m thinkin’ of Lady Ann and Gladys. Think on it, and we’ll talk about it later.”
I looked over at James but realised he wouldn’t understand what Mildred was getting at. So, I had to put my thinking cap on. Just mentioning Lady Ann’s name brought a wistful smile to my face as I thought of how happy she is now that she's in Heaven with her beloved Peter. But, apart from the fact she was once a ghost, she had no other connection with Gladys. I’d just have to wait until Mildred explained her idea in the evening.
The rest of the afternoon and early evening was devoted to the children. Once they had finished their homework, Michael wanted James to play football in the garden, and Ann wanted to practice her piano piece. Mildred and I were content to sit and listen. After dinner and a spell watching the television, the children were finally tucked up in bed.
"Would you like a glass of wine, Darling?" James asked as he went to the drinks cupboard." When I nodded, he poured me a glass of red, before turning back. "And what about you, Mildred ... a glass of sherry ... for medicinal purposes, of course?”
“Of course!" Mildred laughed. "That’d be nice, Doctor James. I haven’t had one for weeks." Her bright smile faltered, and then faded as she pursed her lips. "I's just had one of them 'lightbulb' moments, you know, like when yer brain wakes up? I were thinkin' ... how long, exactly, were I gone for?”
I had to think for a moment. Mildred didn’t come to the alternate 1996 with me, and she wasn’t here when I came home the last time. But, in the here and now, she was only missing from this time for two days, although it was probably more in the reality she was living back in 1915.
When I told her, Mildred nodded thoughtfully. “Tis a weird feelin’ being away longer than you were … that don’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. Anyway, while James gets our drinks, you can start telling us what your idea is. We’ve waited long enough for you to reveal it.”
Mildred took the glass of sherry from James, and put it on the coffee table after taking a small sip. “Well, I were thinking about the tales you told me that you’n the ghost of Lady Ann got up t’ with that wicked excuse of a man, Sir John. Fair scared the life outta him, and you did the same with Gwendolyn’s brother when you pretended t’ be her writing him a message after she died. Why don’t we do somethin’ like that?”
“What do you mean?” James and I both asked in unison.
Mildred closed her eyes for a moment before picking up her glass again and taking another sip of her sherry. “I mean, why don't you spook him out with some of your ghostly tomfooleries, and then pretend that you’re Gladys writing a note threatening to haunt him for the rest of his life if he doesn’t confess to her murder.”
James combed his fingers through his hair as he digested what Mildred had just said. “I’m not sure that would work. Why would he confess? It would only result in him being sent to the gallows. I would have thought being haunted by his late wife would be preferable to that, wouldn’t you?”
He had a good point, and the look of disappointment on Mildred’s face had me immediately looking for an answer to encourage her in a different way. “Unless—” I said as my mind went into whirlwind problem-solving mode. “Unless you said that Gladys would haunt him for the rest of his life if he didn't resign his position in the admiralty.”
This time James nodded his head. “That could work,” he said as he mulled it over. “It would save you having to kill him, and he wouldn’t be in a position to change the outcome of the first World War. I realise it wouldn’t be as satisfying as getting rid of him, but at least it might put the despicable man out of action and ensure history doesn’t change.”
Mildred’s previous crest-fallen expression was replaced with one of optimism. “You reckon?”
“Yes, I do. I know we’d all like to see him exposed for what he did, but the most important thing is the end result, and if he isn’t in a position to redirect the navy from Jutland, the problem’s solved.”
By now Mildred was beaming from ear to ear. “Then that’s what we’ll do!” She raised her glass in the air before downing her sherry in one...
Continued…
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral CharlesPembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading my story. If you find some nits, I would be so pleased if you let me know what they are. Thank you! This is written in UK English, with Mildred's distinctive dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 33
Mildred’s previous crest-fallen expression was replaced with one of optimism. ‘You think so?’
‘Yes, I do. I know we’d all like to see him exposed for what he did, but the most important thing is the end result, and if he isn’t in a position to redirect the navy from Jutland, the problem’s solved.’
By now Mildred was beaming from ear to ear. ‘Then that’s what we’ll do!’ She raised her glass in the air before downing her sherry in one....
Part 34
The following morning, I walked into the kitchen, flopped down on the chair, and with my elbows on the table, I lowered my head into my upturned palms and let out a noisy yawn.
“Sounds t’ me like someone should still be in bed.” Mildred smiled and handed me a cup of tea. “Get this down you. I’ve put the bread in the toaster. It won’t be long.”
“Thanks, Mildred. Just what the doctor ordered. I didn’t sleep very well. My brain was too busy trying to come up with the best way to spook our infamous friend.”
Attempting to smother another yawn while picking up my cup wasn’t easy. I took a tentative sip of the scalding liquid. Then pulling my dressing gown sleeves down to cover my hands, I wrapped them around the cup as I looked over at her. “We need Gladys’ help. She’ll know when that toe-rag of a husband will be working at home.”
Mildred brought the full toast rack to the table, along with the butter and marmalade, then fetched her cup of tea and sat down. “I’ve been using me noddle, as well. Hurt a bit, I can tell yeh,” she said with a chuckle. “What’s t’ stop us scarin’ him when he’s out ‘n about? I was thinkin’ he’d more ’n likely not be bothered if it were just at home.”
“What a great idea! That opens up a lot of irresistible avenues we can explore. We’ll start at his house to get him spooked up there so he knows what’s happening when he’s out.” I could feel my grin stretching my face as I thought about what I could do. “You’re an absolute genius. Well done!”
Mildred tossed her head to flick away a stray wisp of hair as her face lit up with pleasure. “There’s gotta be somethin’ in that hole in me head after all!”
Any more chat was put on hold as Michael charged into the kitchen, followed by a more leisurely-paced Ann. As James had already left for the hospital, it didn’t take us long to get breakfast cooked, and less time for the children to eat it. Soon, it was all cleared away.
“I’ll walk the children to school and pick up a few things I need from the corner shop. Is there anything you want?”
Mildred shook her head. “No. I’ll get me shower in while you’re gone.”
“You be careful not to get that bandage wet,” I cautioned her. “How does your head feel today?”
Mildred’s hand automatically reached up to gently touch it. “A bit tight—but I’m thinkin’ it’s the bandage.”
“I’ll ask James if he could take a look when he comes home,” I told her. “Right, come on, you two, get your coats and satchels.”
The rest of the day went by with one or the other of us coming up with ridiculously funny ideas of what we could do to frighten the contemptible man. I couldn’t wait to go back into the past to put some of them into practice. Before we knew it, the day had passed, and it was time for the children to come home again.
James was on the early rota this week at the hospital, so it wasn’t long after the children’s return that he came home. After he’d showered and changed, he took a look at Mildred’s bandage. “It doesn’t look too tight, but I’ll undo it and check that it isn’t the sutures that are pulling,” he told her as he took out a pair of surgical gloves from his medical bag and put them on. “Tell me if it hurts.”
“Oh, Lordy, Doctor James. I’s got t’ be tellin’ you, pain ’n me aren’t the bestest of chums. In fact, we’s mortal enemies!” Mildred closed her eyes, drawing them tightly together, then grimaced and groaned even before James had touched the bandage.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mildred! Since when have you been such a scaredy-cat?”
After James had checked out her wound and told us it was healing nicely, he went to put on a clean dressing, when I stopped him.
“I’ve just had an awful thought. If we’re sent back now, this could create a problem. Tommy will recognise this is a professional job and will want to know who put the bandage on. He would also want to see what it’s covering. Is there a way to protect the wound without Tommy seeing it? He doesn’t know Mildred’s hurt.”
“Hmm, you have a point there. If he does have a look, he’ll also see the sutures, which are impossible to hide.”
“S’posin’ I’s don’t have the bandage? I were thinkin’ I could move me hair about t’ cover it.”
James frowned as he considered it. Chewing his bottom lip, with his eyes set squarely on Mildred’s head, we watched his expression change as he suddenly came to a decision. “I’ll spray a strong antiseptic over the area. Then once it’s dry, you can rearrange your hair.”
A few minutes later, no one would know anything had happened to Mildred. A few grips held her hair nicely in place. She stood in front of the mirror and smiled. “Lookin’ good!”
We spent the next half an hour telling James our ghosting ideas, and then to our absolute astonishment and surprise, he came up with a few ideas of his own. Now that we had a viable plan, I couldn’t wait to get started.
*****
“Mildred! There you are, I’ve been worried. Are you alright?” Tommy rushed over as we walked out of the second corridor and into the draper’s shop. He grabbed hold of Mildred’s arm and immediately held the oxygen mask over her mouth and nose for a moment, and even though she didn’t need it and struggled against it, he held it there until he was sure she was alright. “Come along, let’s get out of here.”
For heaven’s sake, we’re back in the First World War, again! Thank goodness we managed to sort Mildred’s wound out before returning. Being thrown back into the past again was still unsettling to have it happen so instantly. I doubted very much that I’d ever get used to this part of time-travelling.
“What’s happening? Where are we going?” she asked him while looking at me over his shoulder.
“I think you were in the corridor far too long breathing in that smoke. It’s left you a little confused. Don’t worry, it’ll pass. But to enlighten you, I’ll tell you what happened. You, my dear heroine, just saved every patient in the hospital! Not only them but all the staff, as well. If it hadn’t been for your clever idea to practice getting out in case of another bombing, every one of us would be dead now.” He smiled at her with a look in his eyes that held a bit more than admiration.
Mildred was not a lady to take a compliment easily. She turned away, but not before I saw the colour creep into her face. “How do we get outta here?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject.
Tommy grinned as he put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, it’s this way.”
“I’ll be right behind you, Mildred,” I told her. I glanced at her hair and was satisfied no one would know she’d been hurt.
Walking out into clean fresh air must have been a pleasure for all the patients who’d been trapped in the awful smoke-filled corridor for all those hours. The moon was sinking fast, and the sunrise was imminent. A new day, and perhaps, for the few who still had a little bit of optimism left, fresh hope that the worst was over. I glanced around at all the damaged buildings and the dazed and wounded people staggering around.
Tommy led Mildred over to the only building standing, and seemingly untouched. Inside, we were pleased to see most of the injured people who’d safely escaped from the bombed hospital, all of whom would have their own tale to tell their grandchildren one day.
I went over to stand by Mildred. “I’m going to start looking for Gladys; she might be here checking on Tommy. Meanwhile, you can bring the subject round to his father. See if Tommy knows what he’s up to, and where he is.”
Mildred coughed and gave an indiscernible nod.
I half expected Gladys to be standing nearby, but after moving around the ground floor, and after searching a few other rooms and not seeing her, I decided she wasn’t here. The only reason she wouldn’t be near her precious son is that something else had taken her attention … or, please, God, no, she has now passed over knowing Tommy was safe. Hmm, I don’t believe that. She told me she was going to stay beside him until the war was over. So … Where are you?
The only other place I could think of was her home. I looked around for Mildred, but couldn’t see her anywhere. I'd just have to trust she would realise where I would be going.
The sun was rising steadily now, and the new day promised to be warm. I made my way along the road in the direction of the street where Gladys lived. It didn’t take long, and I was soon walking up the steps and passing through the front door. Just as I’d suspected, Gladys was there sitting opposite her husband in the drawing-room.
“Veronica! I’ve been wondering where you were. Where did you go?” Gladys jumped up and came over to me. “He’s been nodding off there for the last hour,” she said, throwing a sardonic look at the Vice Admiral.
I beamed at her happily. “I’m so pleased I’ve found you here, and overjoyed to see he’s here, too. I have lots to talk to you about.”
“If you’re that pleased to see him, it has to be an interesting conversation. I’m all ears. Come and sit down and tell all!”
Okay, now to see how she reacts to the idea of us driving her husband crazy….
Continued…
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral CharlesPembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | This is written in UK English, (with Mildred's added dialect) any errors spotted, I would be grateful if you could point them out to me. You've been wonderful reviewers and I appreciate you all. :) xx |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 34
“Veronica! I’ve been wondering where you were. Where did you go?” Gladys jumped up and came over to me. “He’s been nodding off there for the last hour,” she said, throwing a sardonic look at the Vice Admiral.
I beamed at her happily. “I’m so pleased I’ve found you here, and overjoyed to see he’s here, too. I have lots to talk to you about.”
“If you’re that pleased to see him, it has to be an interesting conversation. I’m all ears. Come and sit down and tell all!”
Okay, now to see how she reacts to the idea of us driving her husband crazy….
Part 35
Where to begin. This is going to be the tricky part, getting her to believe I’m from the future. The only way is to jump right in and tell her. Here goes nothing!
“For you to understand what I’m about to tell you, I have to go back to when you were alive and a suffragette. You remember when I first met you, I was … alive? Mildred and I went on the first march with you, and you were almost put into the prison van, remember?”
“Yes, very well. But I don’t understand where you’re going with this,” Gladys replied as she threw out her hands in a wide bemused gesture before bringing them back to fold across her chest.
“You will in a minute. I just wanted you to remember seeing me at that stage because you never saw me again until we met up at the hospital after you’d died. What I have to tell you is going to be hard for you to believe, but be assured, it’s all true.” I paused, taking a deep breath and watched as Gladys came to stand in front of me with a puzzled frown.
I decided to start from the very beginning of my life as a time-traveller. It would take a while, but it would help her to understand. At least, I hoped it would.
As my story progressed, Gladys moved over to her chair and sat down. Her face was a mixture of pity and disbelief. I was sure she thought I’d lost my mind. I had to give her credit, she never once interrupted. When I finally reached the part where her friend Robert came to take her out of Holloway Prison, she gasped. I repeated almost word for word what was said in that room. She knew Mildred hadn’t been there, and the only way I would know about it was if I’d been there in my invisible form.
“But, how can this be real? Time-travel only happens in books. Ahh!” she said with an enlightened smile. “Have you been reading The Time Machine, by HG Wells? Because I have to tell you, I have. It’s complete fiction … isn’t it? Surely, it’s not possible … but then … how would you know what I said to Robert, and he to me?” Gladys looked through me as her eyes glazed over.
“It’s all true, Gladys. You have to believe me, because what I have to tell you next is very important for England’s future, and that also includes Tommy’s.”
The mention of her beloved son brought her attention back to me. “Tommy’s? How? What could he possibly have to do with this … this extraordinary story?”
“Let me tell you the rest of it. We step back to where we are now, in the First World War.” This time, I brought up the first time I saw her in the hospital and how she had assumed I was a ghost. Then I reminded her how she was flummoxed when she realised Mildred could see and talk to us.
“Mildred’s like you? A time-traveller?”
“Yes. The next part of the story is where I’m hoping you’ll understand how vital it is that you believe me. In the history of my time, we won this war, but Germany rose up again for a harder, diabolical war in 1938, which, I hasten to add, we also won.”
Gladys shook her head. “This is a lot to take in, but from what you’ve told me, I can’t doubt you. I mean, there was a time I didn’t believe in ghosts––and yet, here I am! But what I don’t understand is, what has Charles to do with all this?”
“I'm just getting to that part. I’ll tell you what I’ve recently learnt and why I think Mildred and I were sent back in time. It’s not nice, and we must ensure this doesn’t happen.”
I then proceeded to reveal what Charles would be doing to affect the outcome of the war, and the consequences of those actions if we didn’t stop him. When I’d finished telling her of the alternate world we would be living in should Charles get his way, I waited to hear her response. If it was possible for a ghost to pale, Gladys did just that. I thought she was going to fade away completely.
“That must be what he’s been working on all these nights,” she said, her voice now filled with alarm. “What can we do? It’s not as if we can tell anyone.”
“Oh, we might not be able to speak, but there are lots of other things we can do!” I smiled deviously, casting a mischievous eye at the sleeping husband. I then explained our plan. “By the time he gets to see the Admiral, he’ll be a blithering idiot, and who would want a crazy man in his position when the country is at war? They would remove him from his job, and hopefully, put him into an asylum for the rest of his days.”
“So that’s why you were delighted to see him here.” She turned her head to stare at her husband. “What have you in mind?”
“Oh, just a little bit of nonsense to begin with. Shall we make a start?” Remembering the thug who had kidnapped Joe’s children in my last assignment, I picked up the smallest of the three pokers that lay on the hearth beside the open fire and pointed it at Charles.
“What are you going to do with that?” I could tell from the way Gladys was clenching her hands together, and the huge grin she was wearing on her face, that she was bursting with excitement.
“This!” I smiled and prodded the poker into Charles’ stomach. He brought his hand up and flicked it away, not registering what was happening in his drowsy state. I prodded again, only this time a lot harder. When his eyes flew open, and he saw the poker heading towards his stomach, he shrieked and jerked to the side of the chair, bringing his knee up to protect himself as he tried to get out of the way.
For a moment, that fear held him captive in his chair just long enough for me to prod his arms and legs as Gladys stood there bent over, shaking with side-splitting laughter.
“What the hell’s going on?” he bellowed, his eyes bulging, practically popping out of their sockets. “What skulduggery is this? Who’s there?” Charles was now up on his feet, and, keeping his eyes on the flying poker, he reached over to pick up one of the other two. As he waved it around, fighting an invisible foe, I wondered if he might suffer an acute heart attack.
Hmm, that would be so convenient … and save an awful amount of time and trouble. I looked at his face, apart from the trace of fear, I could see more outrage in his eyes and an angry purpling in his cheeks. No, he doesn’t look like a man who could be frightened to death.
“This is so funny! It’s the most enjoyable entertainment I’ve experienced since I died,” Gladys told me, grinning rapturously as we watched him fall back into his chair, screaming obscenities after I’d dropped the poker on his foot.
I dashed over to the table and picked up a newspaper. After I’d rolled it up, I raced back and slapped him around the head with it before he could get his wits together. Unfortunately, his wits were back faster than I expected, because his hand shot out and grabbed the paper from my hand. The manic laugh he released in his moment of triumph was rather scary—or would have been had I been in my physical form. Even so, it wasn’t something I’d like to hear again.
“Let’s leave him to it. He won’t know we’ve gone for a while.” I sported a satisfied grin as I watched him thrashing around at nothing but thin air. “What shall we do now?”
Gladys tilted her head in thought. “Let’s go into his study, it’ll be peaceful in there while we consider your next move. I have to say, that was most impressive. If only I could do something like that, being a ghost would take on a whole new meaning.”
“Have you ever tried?” I asked as we moved from the sitting room into the hall.
“No, I haven’t, come to think of it. I’ve just accepted what I am. After watching you, and hearing what you told me the ghost of Lady Ann was able to do, I must try. Ah, here we are,” she said as we reached the study door and passed through it. “Welcome to my husband’s playroom.”
I looked around as I walked towards the shelves, and noted many of the books were about the Navy, and a few were political. When I moved over to his desk, which was neat and tidy, I noticed a large book lying open in the centre.
I studied it for a moment before turning to Gladys. “Do you think this is what Charles has been ardently working on?"
Gladys joined me and leaned closer to take a look. “It’s possible, but I can’t say for sure. He never discussed his work with me. Or anything else for that matter.”
I flipped the pages back to the beginning and glanced at the heading. It was a moment before it registered what I was actually reading. In large sprawling letters were the words, Suggested amendments for naval attack….
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -Gladys' son. Doctor
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading my story. If you notice any errors, please let me know, I'd be most grateful. This is written in UK English and Mildred's dialect. :)) |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 35
I studied it for a moment before turning to Gladys. “Do you think this is what Charles has been ardently working on? I remember you saying he’s married to the navy with all the work he does at home.”
Gladys came over and looked over my shoulder. “It’s possible, but I can’t say for sure. He never discussed his work with me. Or anything else for that matter.”
I flipped the pages back to the beginning and glanced the heading. It was a moment before it registered what I was actually reading. In large sprawling letters were the words, Suggested amendments for naval attack….
Part 36
“Oh, Gladys, do you realise what we’re looking at? These details, written in black and white, are the reason why we’ll lose this war!” My heart and stomach felt like they were swapping places as I flicked through a few more pages, shaking my head and groaning at each turn. “We have to stop him! Many of the people alive in our future world won’t exist if these suggestions are implemented.” And even my James won’t be born … and if he isn’t, our children won’t be, either.
My eyes flashed around the room. “There has to be more than this. We only have a few months before the battle of Jutland takes place. At least, it will be if this psychopath doesn’t get the chance to change the location.” I frowned as I looked back at the book. “Although these jottings look to be just rudimentary suggestions, I’m sure there’s more to them than what I’m reading. Perhaps there’s a map.… Do you know where else Venomous Asp Pembrock keeps his work? I’d like to see how far he’s got.”
Gladys laughed. “Venomous Asp Pembrock! That’s so much more appropriate than, Vice Admiral!” Then she shook her head. “Sorry, but that was so funny. To answer your question, no, I was never allowed in here. This is his private domain. It’s strictly out of bounds to everyone, including the maid. The only time she’s allowed to clean this room is when he’s here, and I’ve heard her complain to the cook how it puts her nerves on edge having him watch her all the time. I can only suppose he keeps highly confidential papers here.”
“Okay, then we’ll have to search….” Before I could finish, the door burst open.
With his formidable presence, Charles stormed into the room, slammed the door, and strode over to the desk. Then, after he’d sat down, he turned his attention to the opened book in front of him.
“Are you going to do your spooky thing again?” Gladys asked, her ghostly form almost glowing with excitement.
As I laughed, it flashed through my mind that I was looking at the strong, determined Gladys I’d first got to know when she marched on Downing Street with the other suffragettes, banner in hand, and demanding her rights. Once more, her voice was enthused with passion. This time it was with a burning desire to have her husband brought down and disgraced.
“Yes. But first I want to see if he’s going to bring out something more that will be helpful for us to work on.” I had a sudden thought. “When did you learn how to walk through solid matter?”
Gladys appeared to think it over. “If my memory still serves me well, it happened without me realising it. I was enraged at Charles for cutting my life off so soon, that when I looked up I discovered I’d moved into another room.” She gave a little chuckle. “I was like a child in a sweet shop, walking through all the walls and closed doors in the house.”
“That’s almost how it was with me. But it was because of Lady Ann’s patience that I learnt to do a lot more than that. It took me a long time before I was able to pick up lightweight objects, though,” I told her, recalling the frustration I’d felt each time I'd failed. “I had to convince my brain I was still solid matter. After that, I found it easy. You should try it.”
“Thank you. I will.” I could almost hear the cogs working in her mind as she planned all the things that she would be able to do to her toad of a husband.
All the time we were talking, I'd made a point of keeping my eye on him. A frown puckered his forehead, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. He knew someone had been in here and had touched his book. With slow, deliberate movements, he turned his head to look around the study. A couple of minutes passed, then, after puffing out his chest, he expelled his breath with a growl before turning back to his book. Picking up his pen, he dipped it into the well and started writing.
He worked steadily for a good half an hour, lifting his head once to look around the room. After that, we didn’t have to wait long before he stopped again. Opening a drawer beneath the desk, he took out a sheet of blotting paper to mop up the surplus ink. Satisfied, he closed the book and moved it to one side.
“Now what’s he going to do?” I whispered, and then chuckled. What on earth was I whispering for? He couldn’t hear me.
We watched as he pulled out a large leather binder. It was at least twenty-four inches square. When he opened it out and laid it across the desk, I was at his side in an instant.
Anticipation stirred my senses as I leaned closer–could this be what I’m after?
As fast as a whippet, Gladys had moved to stand on his other side. “Is this the map you wanted to see?” she asked, but before I could answer, she pointed to an area in the North Sea. “What do you think those symbols mean?”
I studied the map for a moment. “Going by their positions, I think the little triangles are our ships, and the crosses are the Germans. If I’m right about what the markings represent, he has grossly miscalculated the number of German ships that I know for certain will be there. And that's why we will lose the war.”
“What can we do?”
“I don’t know,” I replied with a shrug. “Our earlier session doesn’t seem to have upset him that much. Let’s start by messing up his map.” I reached out and lifted the pot of ink that now had no lid, and moved it towards the map.
“Oh, look at his face!” Gladys squealed her delight. “If we keep this up, we will drive him to apoplexy.” Then, without any warning, she reached forward and slapped the inkpot out of my hand with such force, the ink splattered all over the map.
While the Vice Admiral was howling with anger, Gladys and I looked at each other in stunned silence, before we burst into a fit of laughter.
“You did it––you actually touched the inkpot and sent it flying!”
“I did … didn’t I? That’ll teach the venomous asp!” Then she did a little jig, jumped, and shot up in the air. It was hilarious. “Oh, this is going to be such fun!” With that, Gladys went around the study knocking things onto the floor, and having a riotous time.
I glanced at Charles. His expression was priceless. Looking down at the ink on the map, another thought entered my scheming mind. I picked up his pen and dipped the nib in the spilt ink, I then wrote in big letters: I'M WATCHING YOU! - G.
Gladys had come over to see what I was doing, then grinned. But when we both looked up to gauge his response to my message, I think we were both taken aback to see his lips curve into a twisted smile.
“I thought it might be you,” he drawled lazily. “So, you thought a bit of haunting would scare me, huh? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, my dear. You never did have a brain between those ears, did you?” His malicious remark made my blood boil. But Gladys just stood there, her face expressionless.
We watched as he mopped up the spilt ink with the blotting paper, then stood up and went to the door to call for the maid. Nonchalantly, he turned back and looked around the room. “I hope you enjoyed your little bit of fun.”
A young girl, whom I'd not seen before, came into the room and then stopped, reminding me of a science fiction robot that had been switched off. Her eyes were the only part of her that moved as she took in the chaos around the study.
“Well, don't just stand there! Clear this up, and be quick about it.”
“Oh, my word! I didn’t expect him to take it like that. If this doesn’t scare him, nothing will! I guess I should have known he’d be like this; he’s such an arrogant, nauseating man, I’m sure he’d put the wind up the devil!”
It shook me for a moment, too. But I was sure this was all bravado. I wasn’t going to be deterred by this act.
“He’s right about one thing, though, I am stupid!” Gladys continued. “I shouldn’t have messed up this room. It didn’t hurt him––or scare him."
I watched the young maid pick up all the things that Gladys had knocked over and frowned. “No, you're not stupid! You can put that thought right out of your head! At least now he knows you’re here, that’s the main thing. We’ve made a statement, and whether he’s scared or not, this was just the beginning. He hasn’t seen the last of us by any means."
Mollified, Gladys looked back at Charles. “So, what do we do now?”
"Now, my dear Gladys, we are going to show this muttonhead just what a clever lady you really are. By the time we're finished with him, he'll be begging for your forgiveness!"
I was furious, how dare he! "Come on, let's get out of here and find Mildred. We have some serious planning to do..."
Continued…
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – Murdered mother of
Tommy – Doctor during WW1
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you again for your support and for finding those little nits! I do appreciate you a lot. :) This is written in UK English, and Mildred's dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 36
I watched the young maid pick up all the things that Gladys had knocked over and frowned. “No, you're not stupid! You can put that thought right out of your head! At least now he knows you’re here, that’s the main thing. We’ve made a statement, and whether he’s scared or not, this was just the beginning. He hasn’t seen the last of us by any means."
Mollified, Gladys looked back at Charles. “So, what do we do now?”
"Now, my dear Gladys, we are going to show this muttonhead just what a clever lady you really are. By the time we're finished with him, he'll be begging for your forgiveness!"
I was furious, how dare he! "Come on, let's get out of here and find Mildred. We have some serious planning to do..."
Chapter 37
The first thing we noticed was how few patients were left in the building now. Most of those brought away from the hospital with severe injuries had already gone. Those who remained were being helped into warm clothing that someone had managed to rustle up from somewhere. These were all accepted with a gracious smile since they had only been wearing thin hospital gowns.
“I can’t see Mildred anywhere,” I said as we walked further into the building. “Can you see Tommy?”
“No, but they must be nearby. It’s not easy to disappear with all those sick and injured people with them. Let’s have another look in the street. We might see some indication as to where they’ve gone.”
Standing on what was left of the pavement, we observed the comings and goings of the people around. Due to the shortage of young men now, the women were being asked to step in and help wherever needed, and those with young children clinging on to their mothers' skirts still managed to do what they could.
There were many elderly men walking around, some confused and calling out names of people they were looking for. Others were trying to get on as best they could. There were women helping fight the fires still burning in some buildings. Some of the heavier hoses required two women to hold them steady.
We watched as an ambulance pulled up outside a small church across the road, and the female driver jumped out and dashed inside.
“I’d like to hear Parliament turn down the suffragettes' demands after all the manual work these women have been doing throughout this war. We’ll have to resume our campaign as soon as possible once we’ve beaten the.…” Gladys stopped, and straight away her eyes were filled with pain and anger as the realisation hit her. “How I detest Charles!”
Her head dropped as her body appeared to shrivel in her misery, leaving me frustrated that I couldn’t offer her any physical comfort. “We’ll make him suffer for all he put you through, you can count on it. Every bruise, broken bone, every drop of blood he caused you to spill, he will pay dearly for. There is no way he’s going to get away with it ... or your murder.”
Gladys gave an unconvincing smile and nodded.
“Oh, look … coming out of the church door with the ambulance driver!” I shouted. “Isn’t that one of the doctors who worked in the hospital? I’m sure I saw him working alongside Tommy.”
“Yes, it is. Come on, let's go and see if they’re in there.” Gladys was already crossing the road, with me chasing her like an invisible shadow.
Dashing inside the church, I immediately became aware of the deep reverence contained within the walls. The hushed murmurings coming from the patients and medical staff, alike, had a soothing effect that couldn’t be denied. A most appropriate location––who better to have watch over the sick and injured than God?
I brought myself back to the reason I was in here and started my search. It would take me some time to find Mildred in the small, crowded church.
The pews had been turned to face each other. This made it possible for a patient to be laid down at both ends, and prayer cushions were being passed around for them to lay their heads upon for comfort.
Gladys and I moved further down the aisle and, at last, we saw Mildred talking to a few patients sitting in front of her.
“I’m back,” I said after I’d hurried through the pews, not bothering to walk around them. “And I’ve found Gladys. Can you get away for a chat?”
Mildred’s eyes lit up, and she excused herself from the people she was talking to. With a little nod, she moved off and led us back outside.
She stood, facing the church notice board, as she spoke. “I wondered how long it would take you t’ find me. The good vicar offered his church up for us t’ use. He’s been a real Godsend, in the true meanin’ of the word.” She smiled over at Gladys. “Nice t’ see you again.”
“Likewise, Mildred.” She shook her head and smiled. “This is so strange. I’m beginning to wonder if I truly am dead!”
We all laughed. Bringing a bit of lighthearted humour into a serious situation couldn’t do any harm.
“Mildred, we’ve made a start by spooking the Venomous Asp, as we now call him. But unfortunately, he wasn’t at all bothered about it. We’ll have to spice it up a bit if we’re going to stop him in time.”
“Venomous Asp?” Mildred frowned until a gleam of enlightenment lit up her face. “Vice Admiral!” She let out a hoot of laughter, causing the people nearby to stop and give her a peculiar look. “I’s thinkin’ we’d best be movin’ from here before they comes t’ take me away.”
After leading us down the side of the church and around the back into the cemetery, we found a bench and sat for a moment, each wrapped up in our own thoughts. It was as if we were in another world, it was so peaceful. There were pots of flowers on some of the graves, and their bright, cheerful colours belied the ravages of war.
Gladys gave a deep sigh as she pointed to a stone in the far corner of the graveyard. “I’m over there. Tommy keeps it nice and tidy and puts fresh flowers on it for me.”
Wanting to change the subject away from the morbid, I brought the conversation back to the job in hand. “We need to intensify our spooking of Charles, which means coming up with some better ideas.”
I looked at Mildred. “Honestly, apart from his initial shock, all we got from him was an unpleasant display of anger when I moved his inkwell, and Gladys knocked it from my hand. It didn’t bother Charles one iota that the ink spilt over his map or that he was being haunted by his wife. So, I’m thinking we have to concentrate on doing it elsewhere. Perhaps his office at Admiralty House would be a better place to haunt him.”
Gladys nodded. “What a good idea. I know where his office is, so we won’t have to go searching all over the building.” Then she proceeded to add with an impish sparkle in her eyes, “You don’t know how much I’m looking forward to this … more so now since I can help!”
"How often does he work at his office? You've told me he does a lot from home."
“Oh, that's in the evenings. He has to spend at least three days a week at the Admiralty. There are so many important meetings being held, and, of course, there is the tactical side of the war. That has to be debated in private in the offices of the Prime Minister, and Winston Churchill. So, sometimes, it’s possible that he can be there all week.”
Mildred stood up and faced us. “Seems t’ me, that’ll be the best place t’ spook him,” she said with a raised eyebrow and quirky grin. “In Churchill’s office.”
I stared back at Mildred with open admiration as I recognised where her thoughts were going. “Of course! That’ll be perfect. We’ll have to think of ways to do it without Sir Winston seeing anything untoward. So, whatever we do, it must be discreet, but good enough to make him look like an idiot.”
“I like it!” Gladys enthused. “Although, Winston isn’t a ‘sir’, he’s just plain Winston Churchill.”
“We’s goin’ t’ have t’ chat some more later. I’d best be getting’ back, or Tommy’ll be wonderin’ where I am.”
We heard Tommy’s voice before we saw him. “You’re right; I was.”
Mildred swung around and grinned. “I’s gonna put a bell round your neck, you right made me heart jump!”
Tommy came over and looked around. “Who were you talking to?”
Without so much as a blink, she jumped straight in. “Your mum. I found her headstone while I was walkin’ round the graves the other day.”
Which wasn’t a complete lie. I watched Tommy’s face, waiting for him to say something.
“Come here, you softie.” He grabbed her and planted a kiss on her lips.
Gladys and I exchanged bemused looks as Mildred laughed and pulled away. “Oy! Not in front of your mum!”
Tommy grinned and shook his head. “Okay, what’s Mother been talking to you about?” he asked. I could see the laughter in his eyes as he indulged Mildred.
“Oh, the usual sorta thing. She asked me if you’re eatin’ your greens, and washin’ behind your ears.” Mildred said as she laughed. “I wish I’d known her proper. Seems strange t’ me her fallin’ down the stairs like that. But then I ‘spose things happen.”
Tommy’s laughter faded as he glanced across at his mother’s grave. “I’ve often wondered what caused her to fall. It’s never felt right to me. Knowing my father….” He stopped and gave her a squeeze. “Come on, I need your help with a particularly difficult patient.”
Mildred threw us a self-conscious grin as she was led away.
We sat in silence for a few minutes before Gladys spoke. “I think my Tommy has a … fondness for Mildred. How can that work?”
I hadn’t a clue! “I don’t think we should read too much into it. War, and all it implies, does make people come together just to get through it. Let’s not worry about it for now. What he said about you falling down the stairs was quite revealing, though. He has his suspicions. Perhaps he’ll start talking about it now he’s mentioned his doubts to Mildred.”
“Another person Mildred could talk to is my Aunt Amelia. She likes Mildred, and since she has been staying with her, it will be easy to bring me into the conversation. Once, when I visited her, she had my photo in her hand. She was crying and blaming Charles for my death. It upset me to see her like that.”
“Really? Mildred never told me that she was staying with Amelia while I was back in my own time. Now that is interesting. You just might have hit on something there….”
Continued….
Characters in book 3
Veronica Russell – time traveller
Mildred – now a time - traveller with Veronica.
Dr James – Veronica’s husband
Ann – their 10-year-old daughter
Michael – their 8-year-old son
Gladys Pembroke – suffragette and mother to
Tommy -16-year-old-son
Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock – Gladys’s bullying husband.
Mary – Maid
Lady Amelia Monkton – Gladys’s aunt
Clare – Leader of this suffragette group
Bill – Mortuary
The ‘powers that be’
Jowell
Kraid
Leif
Petro
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading my story. This is written in UK English and Mildred's dialect. If you find any errors, I'd be very grateful if you would point them out to me. Thank you. xx |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 37
We sat in silence for a few minutes before Gladys spoke. “I think my Tommy has a … fondness for Mildred. How can that work?”
I hadn’t a clue! “I don’t think we should read too much into it. War, and all it implies, does make people come together just to get through it. Let’s not worry about it for now. What he said about you falling down the stairs was quite revealing, though. He has his suspicions. Perhaps he’ll start talking about it now he’s mentioned his doubts to Mildred.”
“Another person Mildred could talk to is my Aunt Amelia. She likes Mildred, and since she has been staying with her, it will be easy to bring me into the conversation. Once, when I visited her, she had my photo in her hand. She was crying and blaming Charles for my death. It upset me to see her like that.”
“Really? Mildred never told me that she was staying with Amelia while I was back in my own time. Now that is interesting. You just might have hit on something there….”
Part 38
Unknown Time
The Powers-that-be sat around the table, each with a goblet of wine in their hands and chatting amongst
themselves. Jowell raised his hand and called the meeting to order.
"Before we discuss anything else, I want to bring up the scene we witnessed in the cemetery. For my own part, I was quite surprised that Veronica and Gladys would think there was anything strange going on between Mildred and Tommy, especially under the present circumstances."
Leif chuckled as he shifted in his seat. "Did you notice how embarrassed Mildred became when she knew her friends were watching?"
The others laughed. "Humans can be so reserved at times like this, especially Mildred!”
Jowell then brought the meeting back to order. "Now, about the Vice Admiral–"
"They seem to have that in order," Petro cut in with a grin. "I will want a front seat when they begin their … what did they call it … spooky?"
They all laughed. "Spooking! Yes, I’ll be right next to you," Leif told him. "This is their best idea to date, and I’m sure it will work well."
Jowell held up his goblet. "To Veronica, Mildred and Gladys! May they bring this off to everyone’s satisfaction."
With rousing cheers, they all raised their goblets and then drank them dry, before slamming them down on the table.
1915
Gladys and I were waiting for Mildred in Amelia’s home. I was fascinated with the delicate embroidery she was doing on a small lace-trimmed handkerchief. Her nimble fingers created the most delightful little rosebuds with her tiny neat stitches. I sat watching in awe.
It was quite late when Mildred walked into the room, and it was obvious to anyone who saw her that she was worn out. Seeing us sitting on the sofa gave her a jolt, but fortunately, just as she was about to speak, she managed to catch herself in time and clamped her mouth shut.
Amelia put her needlework down and studied the weariness in Mildred’s features. A frown, layered with concern, coated her face. ‘You’re working much too hard, my dear. Don’t let that young scallywag nephew of mine take advantage of your kind nature.’ Just mentioning Tommy was enough to brighten Mildred's face, though. Amelia stood up and pulled the cord for the maid. ‘Sit down, my dear, and I’ll have Martha fetch us some tea.’
Seeing Amelia's precious cat curled up asleep on the other fireside armchair, Mildred cast a surreptitious look at Gladys and me taking up her only other option. When we both moved over to make room for her, she ignored it and walked across to the fire and held out her hands as if to warm them.
‘A cuppa tea’d be right nice, Miss Amelia. I’m bushed! And it’s not Tommy’s doin’… he kept on at me t’ leave but I’s just too stubborn t’ take orders. He’s told me not t’ be goin’ in t’morrow, though.’
Amelia chuckled. ‘You remind me a little of myself. I can't abide people telling me what I can and cannot do.’ The door opened and the maid came in. ‘Ahh, there you are, Martha. Can you bring in a tray of tea, and...’ She turned to Mildred. ‘Have you eaten today?’
‘Yes … soup. No need t’ be worryin’ about me.’ Mildred gave a tired smile. I could see all she wanted to do was go to bed.
‘Soup! Is that all? Martha, bring some bread and cheese in with the tea.’ She waited until the girl had left the room. ‘We’ll put something solid in that skinny frame of yours. All it would take is one patient to sneeze and you’d be blown over! I’m just sorry that the rations we get aren’t sufficient to give you something more. This war is hurting everyone, I’m afraid. We are most fortunate that Martha had stocked up on dried food and flour before the rationing set in. And, of course, our laying hens are an absolute godsend.’
Mildred tried to argue but gave up when Gladys grinned at her. ‘Just do as you’re told. When Aunt Amelia has a notion, there’s no way you can alter her mind.’
‘Thank you, Miss Amelia, I am a little peckish come t’ think of it.’
‘Do sit down, Mildred. You’re giving me a stiff neck looking up at you all the time.’ She gestured to the sofa, but I could see the idea of sitting where Gladys and I were was a bit off-putting.
I laughed and stood up. ‘Sit down, Mildred, before you fall down. I’ll sit on your lap!’ The look on her face at the very idea of it, was priceless.
Amelia nodded her approval as Mildred lowered herself onto the sofa. ‘I think you should go on to bed once you’ve got something inside you. Although that’s not strictly good for you … to go to bed on a full stomach. But, then again, neither is an empty one.’
I agreed. ‘We’ll talk in the morning,’ I told her. ‘You need your rest.’
It was strange, but I’ve never needed to sleep when I’ve been sent to the past, and I’ve never felt hungry, either. I could only suppose that it was my natural body in my own time and now temporarily suspended in a time warp, that would need the nourishment, not this one. My word, Veronica, that was jolly clever of you!
Gladys stood up and suggested we return to her house so that Mildred could relax with Amelia. I said goodnight to my worn-out friend. ‘It’s good you’re not working tomorrow; we have lots to discuss.’
Charles wasn’t home, more’s the pity, I would have enjoyed partaking in a bit of ghostly fun with him. So, with nothing else to do, we decided to make plans for the next day.
We went into the sitting room and I immediately flopped down on the comfy sofa, while Gladys chose her armchair. ‘Tell me about your Aunt Amelia and Charles. What has their relationship been like since he killed you?’
Gladys thought about it for a moment. ‘Reserved, I would say for want of a better word. So, in a way, nothing much has changed. Aunt Amelia has always had her suspicions that he beat me, and now my murder ... well, with no proof, there’s nothing she can do, anyway.’
‘Then we have to find some.’ That was easy to say, but as no one saw him push her down the stairs…. ‘Does your aunt believe in ghosts?’
‘No,’ Gladys replied slowly as she shook her head. ‘Well, as far as I know; but I very much doubt it. Any more than I did whilst I was alive. Why?’
‘It’s just an idea, though it might not work,’ I said slowly as an idea formulated in my head. ‘What if we could convince her you’re still here and want your death avenged? We could possibly give her some ammunition to scare him with. He already knows you’re here, so he’d have no choice but to believe her.’
‘Wouldn’t that be a bit risky? I don’t want to put Aunt Amelia in danger. You know what Charles is like. She could end up having an accident like mine.’
I hadn’t thought of that. There has to be a way to do this without Amelia coming to harm. Think, Veronica. A note… ‘A note!’ I almost leapt off the sofa in my excitement. ‘We’ll get Amelia to write a note and leave it with her maid, or someone she can trust. If Charles thinks someone has a letter accusing him of your murder and possibly hers, I’m sure he’d be too worried to do anything to her.’
‘You might be right. A letter would make a difference,’ Gladys agreed, but she still looked doubtful.
I thought it was too good an idea to dismiss out of hand. ‘Why don’t we have a word with Mildred in the morning? If she can persuade Amelia that you’re still here in spirit form, we can go from there.’
The morning arrived with a heavy downpour. I wondered if I would feel it, or get wet. When it came to the test, I couldn’t and I didn’t. Mildred was still in bed and sleeping soundly when we went up to her room, so we sat on her wide windowsill and watched the rain run down the glass. There was quite a wind blowing up and from the appearance of the gloomy, unsettled clouds, it looked set for the day. It really did look like autumn had arrived early.
‘Oh, Lordy, what’re you two doin’ here so early?’ Mildred had sat up and gave a long, loud yawn as she swung her legs out of bed.
‘Early? We’ve been waiting all night to talk to you!’ I told her. ‘Come on, get up. We have a job for you to do.’
‘What sort of job?’
‘You have to convince Amelia that Gladys is still here and needs her help….’
Continued…
| Author Notes | Thank you once more for reading my story. This is written in UK English, with Mildred's dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 38
‘Oh, Lordy, what’re you two doin’ here so early?’ Mildred had sat up and gave a long, loud yawn as she swung her legs out of bed.
‘Early? We’ve been waiting all night to talk to you!’ I told her. ‘Come on, get up. We have a job for you to do.’
‘What sort of job?’
‘You have to convince Amelia that Gladys is still here and needs her help….’
Part 39
“Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, you do lumber me with the weirdest jobs. How’s I goin’ t’ do that?”
I moved over to sit beside her on her bed. “That’s what we have to discuss. How to do it without scaring Amelia half to death. If we start moving things around, she might become frightened. You have to talk to her first. If she needs proof, then we can show her.”
Gladys left her window seat and came to stand in front of us. “I know she’s been toying with the idea that Charles was responsible for my death for quite a while now because I’ve heard her say so when she talks to my photo. So, you could say I won’t go into the light until I know he has been brought to justice. Aunt Amelia is very open-minded—she’s a lady born before her time. I know she’ll listen to you and won’t dismiss the possibility of my being a ghost. It’s worth a try, anyway.”
Mildred puffed up her cheeks and then blew her breath out through puckered lips. I could almost see her brain moving as she rubbed her forehead. “Seems t’ me you’ve been givin’ this a lot of thought while I were asleep.” When she turned to look at me, I could see that twinkle in her eyes. “This is gonna be fun. I likes Amelia, she’s a real lady but there’s nothin’ hoity-toity about her.”
I nodded. “Mmm, you’re right there. Okay, you get yourself washed and dressed while we go and see what Amelia is up to. You can broach the subject delicately during breakfast. We’ll be there and can act as prompts when you get stuck.” I studied her expression. “You’ll do fine ... you always do.”
Amelia was already sitting at the table when we went into the dining room, delicately nibbling her way through a plate of egg and bacon. A tea plate beside it held a slice of buttered toast.
I noticed an array of lovely photo frames on the sideboard and went over and studied them. There were a few of Gladys and some of Charles as a child. Behind them were two photos of an elderly couple whom I imagined would be Amelia and her brother’s parents, Charles’ grandparents. In the centre was a lovely photo of a very young Charles and Gladys on their wedding day, standing with all the family outside the church. How stern everyone looked. It was the same with all the photos—didn’t people smile for the camera in those days?
Gladys came up alongside me as I looked at the photos. “Don’t we look glum?” she said as if reading my mind. “Believe it or not, those were happy days. I don’t regret my marriage to Charles. Had I not married him, then my Tommy wouldn’t have been born. So, I have that to thank him for.”
Just then, the door opened and in walked Mildred. “Good-mornin', Amelia. I’s sorry t’ be late for me breakfast.”
With a smile, Amelia waved the apology away. “I didn’t expect you down for a while, dear girl. I told Martha to watch out for you so she could cook your breakfast. You were so tired when you returned home last night. How do you feel this morning?”
“I's fine, thank you.” She went over and sat opposite Amelia and started to pour herself a cup of tea. She hadn’t even added the milk and sugar when Martha came bustling in with her plate of bacon and egg. “Thank you. That were fast!”
“So, what are your plans today?” Amelia enquired casually once Martha had gone. “I hope you’ll listen to my nephew and take the day off. I don’t remember you having any free time since you’ve stayed here.”
Mildred had just filled her mouth with a forkful of food. Unable to answer, she waved her fork in a circle and pointed it to her mouth.
Amelia chuckled. “Don’t rush, my dear, it will give you indigestion. Gladys was the same. She would eat too quickly … there was always someplace she had to be in a hurry. Joining the suffragettes, I believe, was her downfall.”
Gladys's shoulders drooped, and when she spoke there was such sadness in her voice. “So many wasted minutes that I could have spent with her. Now it’s too late.”
Mildred looked at me, an eyebrow raised in question. I nodded. “Yes. Now that Amelia has broached the subject, you can continue. Go for it.”
Taking a deep breath before picking up her cup of tea, she took a sip, then held her cup in both hands. Her face registered surprise as she looked over the rim at Amelia. “What d’yeh mean it were her downfall?”
“Because she knew Charles didn’t approve and wanted her to keep away from them. But she wouldn’t. She would sneak away and go on all the rallies and attend the meetings. She was a silly girl. I warned her that he’d find out.” Amelia stayed quiet for a moment as if remembering those days. Mildred waited, not wanting to intrude upon her thoughts.
“My brother’s son is as big a bully as he is. He had no problem with hitting a woman, either. It’s not against the law, so she couldn’t complain even if she wanted to.” Amelia put her knife and fork together on her plate, then picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth. “I’ve often wanted to speak to my brother about it, but Gladys was having none of it. Now she’s dead. I just can’t accept it was an accident, but I don’t suppose I’ll ever know the truth.”
“Tommy told me yesterday that he couldn’t understand how it were an accident, either. He started t’ say somethin’ about his dad, then stopped and changed the subject.”
“So he does have his suspicions. He was so close to his mother … it was awful watching the dear lad grieve while trying to hide it from his father. Charles wouldn’t tolerate weakness in his son. It broke my heart because there wasn’t a thing I could do to help him.” Amelia looked down at the table, but not before I saw a look of pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry to be rude, my dear, but if you don’t mind, I’ll take my tea into the sitting room. These chairs do nothing for my painful hips.”
Mildred immediately stood up and went around the table to help her. “Of course not. Here’s your walkin’ stick. I’ll pour us out some fresh tea when I’ve finished me breakfast and bring the cups through with me.” She stood aside and watched Amelia stand up. Being a proud lady, she would not want or expect help. Once she had hold of her stick, Mildred watched her leave the room.
I looked at Gladys again and could see the effect this was having on her. “You’re doing well, Mildred,” I told her, giving her the thumbs up. “I think she'll listen to what you have to say now.”
Once Mildred had finished her breakfast, she poured out the fresh cups of tea to take with her into the sitting room. “Stay close t’ me in case I lose me thread," she muttered before taking a deep breath and headed for the door.
I nodded and followed her. Amelia was already sitting down and did look a lot more comfortable. I wondered when the first hip replacement operations started and made a mental note to find out once I got back to my own time.
“There y’are, Amelia.” Mildred put the cup on the table near enough for her to reach, before going to sit on the fireside armchair opposite her. As they sat and sipped their tea in companionable silence, Gladys and I parked ourselves on the sofa and waited for the conversation to begin.
“You never did tell me what you had planned for today, Mildred. You’re most welcome to stay here if all you want to do is rest.” Amelia smiled before she took another sip of tea.
Mildred slowly put her cup down before looking up at me. I gave her an encouraging smile. “Now is a perfect time,” I told her. I sensed Gladys stiffen and move to the edge of the cushion. This was it.
“If you're sure it’ll be alright, an’ I won’t be in your way, I was hopin’ t’ stay and have a chat with you.”
“Oh? That sounds intriguing. Of course, I don’t mind. What did you want to talk about?”
“Gladys,” she said after taking a deep breath.
“My favourite topic. What do you want to know?” she asked, bringing the cup back to her lips.
Mildred pulled one of her funny grimaces. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
What happened next had Mildred jumping up and dashing over to Amelia, relieving her of her cup as she choked and dribbled the tea onto her chin.
I heard Gladys groan. “That didn’t exactly go according to plan, did it?”
My hopes sank like a bucket of cement thrown over the side of an ocean liner. “I hope this doesn’t mean we have a problem,” I said eventually.
Mildred pulled out a clean handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to Amelia. “Are you alright? Oh, Lordy, I didn’t mean t’ frighten you!”
“No … no, my dear. Don’t apologise. It’s just…. Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” She finished wiping her mouth and chin, then looked down with dismay at her white lace blouse. “Dear me, what a mess. I must go and change. This will have to go in the wash immediately, or the stain won’t come out. You will forgive me for a few minutes.” She pulled herself out of the chair, and grabbing her walking stick, she left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, I thinks I’s put me big clodhoppers in it this time,” Mildred murmured as she paced the floor, her face a picture of misery….
Continued….
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading my story. This is written in UK English and Mildred's dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 39
Mildred pulled out a clean handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to Amelia. ‘Are you alright? Oh, Lordy, I didn’t mean t’ frighten you!’
‘No … no, my dear. Don’t apologise. It’s just…. Well, I wasn’t expecting that.’ She finished wiping her mouth and chin, then looked down with dismay at her white lace blouse. ‘Dear me, what a mess. I must go and change. This will have to go in the wash immediately, or the stain won’t come out. You will forgive me for a few minutes.’ She pulled herself out of the chair, and grabbing her walking stick, she left the room, closing the door behind her.
‘Oh, Lordy, Miss Veronica, I thinks I’s put me big clodhoppers in it this time,’ Mildred murmured as she paced the floor, her face a picture of misery….
Part 40
Gladys was also dismayed. “Oh dear, I would never have believed Aunt Amelia would react like that.”
“Let’s not go jumping to conclusions. Wait until she comes back.” I didn’t like to admit it, but I was rather worried, as well.
None of us spoke again as we waited for the door to open. When it did, we all stared with visible apprehension.
Amelia walked in leaning heavily on her cane. Her stained, white blouse had been removed and replaced with a pretty, delicate fuchsia one. The pink tone suited her, contrasting well with her silver-grey hair.
“I'm so sorry, my dear, for taking so long. Martha assures me that she’ll be able to get the stain out. I knew I could rely on her; she has a remedy for all my little mishaps,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m getting quite clumsy in my declining years.”
As she lowered herself gingerly into her chair, I searched her face to see if there was any hint of anxiety. I heaved a sigh of relief to find there was none.
Mildred didn’t look as convinced. “There’s no reason for you t’ be sorry, Amelia, it were me an’ me big mouth. I didn’t mean t’ upset you.”
The gentleness in Amelia’s eyes as she looked at Mildred warmed my heart. “Oh, my dear girl, you didn’t upset me. There’s been many a time I’ve had a sense … a feeling … I'm not sure how to describe it, that Gladys is still with me.”
Mildred stood there, jaw dropped and eyes almost popping from their sockets! “You knew?”
Amelia chuckled. “Well, let’s say I can sense her here. I’m sure that’s what you mean. A friend of mine once told me that if you concentrate hard enough when you are in a place that you could associate with departed loved ones, or see and touch things that meant a lot to them, you will feel them and realise they never really leave you.” She leant over to pick up her cup of tea again, now almost empty after the spillage. She drained it and put it back on the table.
After dabbing her lips with her fingers, she continued. “No one knows these things for certain, but I’m quite sure in my own mind that a part of her remains here. When she was alive, she would visit me quite often, especially for afternoon tea.” She chuckled. “She would come for one of Martha’s lovely cakes. She told me once that Mary’s cakes were … somewhat lacking. I think that’s why I can sense her here. Mind you, I would never mention it to another living soul, and I advise you not to, either, or you'll become a resident of Bethlem before you could take another breath.”
“Bethlehem? What’s Bethlehem got t’ do with anythin’?” Mildred looked as puzzled as I felt, but Gladys hooted with laughter.
“Bethlem, not Bethlehem,” Amelia corrected her as she chuckled. “Bethlem is the mental institution in London. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it. It’s notorious for the inhumane way they treated patients in the past … and I suspect, they still do. We wouldn’t enjoy a stay in there.”
“Oh, Lordy. I’ll be keepin’ me mouth shut; don’t you fret!”
“So, as you have put the question to me, and from the way you’re talking, I take it you can sense her, too?” When she saw Mildred’s expression, she laughed. “I promise you, your secret’s safe with me.”
“It might not be when you hears what I’s gotta tell you.” Mildred looked at me, and we both turned to Gladys, who nodded to give her the go ahead. “Um, what would you say if I told you I can see and speak t’ her?”
Amelia gave an uncertain laugh that resembled a sob, and stared at Mildred as if waiting for her to laugh also. When it became obvious that she was serious, Amelia seemed to shrink back into her chair. I watched, horrified as the blood drained from her face. She stared at Mildred as though seeing her for the first time.
Then, like a soft breeze whipped away by a hurricane, Amelia turned on Mildred–her voice iced with anger and disappointment. “I’d want to know why you would say such a wicked, hurtful thing to me. I’m surprised at you, Mildred. I have shared my home with you, I’ve offered you warmth and comfort … I thought we were friends.”
I watched on in dismay as Mildred crumpled before me. Her devastation cut me to the core. I wished I’d never asked her to do this now. It hurt me to see my gentle, kind friend so upset. I knew then as this whole distressing scenario played out in front of me, that I hadn’t thought this through enough.
Gladys had raced to her aunt’s side, and I could see she was just as distressed as Mildred, more so as she wanted to comfort her and couldn’t.
“Oh, Lordy, Amelia. I wouldn’t say it if ‘twern’t true. I’d never tell such a lie … not t’ you nor nobody.” Mildred stared at me; her eyes pleading as they welled with tears that she tried hard to blink away before turning back. “I’s only saying it now ‘cause we needs your help,” she said, her strangled voice broken with despair.
Amelia took a big tremulous breath before she looked up and searched Mildred’s face. “That being the case, then I expect you can prove it. If Gladys is truly here, ask her what my mother’s name is.”
Mildred looked at Gladys. “Rosemary, but everyone called Charles’ grandmother by her middle name, Lisbeth, because her mother’s older sister had also called her daughter Rosemary.”
We both watched Amelia as Mildred repeated what Gladys had told her. To say her reaction had us worried would be an understatement. We all sat waiting as the silence stretched into minutes.
“You’s got t’ believe me, Amelia. Gladys is here now, watchin’ us.”
Amelia seemed to age in front of us. Her features were pinched as her eyes searched the room. “Gladys? Are you really here? What Mildred has just said is the truth, but it's still hard to believe.” Her chin trembled as tears ran freely down her cheeks. Mildred was with her in a flash, putting her arms around her.
“One of you do somethin’!” Mildred pleaded, her own voice quivering.
Gladys looked at me. “Well, I can’t. You’ll have to.”
I thought for a minute and then asked Mildred if I could borrow her hankie. I waited while she pulled it from her pocket and passed it over. Although she gave me a curious look, she said nothing, but returned to her chair and sat down again to watch what would happen next.
Amelia stared openmouthed in astonishment, and some alarm, as the handkerchief appeared to dangle in the air. I immediately turned to Gladys. “Yes, you can. You knocked the ink pot all over your husband’s map so it should be easy for you to hold a simple light-weight hankie. Here,” I said as I held it towards her. “Take it and go and wipe away your aunt’s tears.”
It was with some trepidation that Gladys reached out, but instead of her taking hold of it, her hand went straight through. “I can’t!”
“Yes, you can, Gladys! Try to remember what I told you. You need to convince yourself you’re still in solid form. Close your eyes and reach for it.”
I realised I was being hard on her, but if she could do this, it would not only help her in our plans for Charles' downfall, but she’d feel so much better knowing she could comfort her dear aunt, as well. I looked back at Amelia; her expression now appearing to be quite nonplussed.
Gladys did as I told her and blindly stretched her arm out. I laid the hankie on her hand and held my breath as she wrapped her fingers around the small scrap of material. The smile that lit up her face when she opened her eyes told me I’d done the right thing. “Now wipe the tears off your poor aunt's face.”
Amelia’s attention never faltered, fixed on the handkerchief as it floated, unaided, towards her. Then, with very gentle care, Gladys wiped away her tears.
“But how is this possible?” Amelia gasped.
“Will you tell my aunt that I’m sorry I frightened her … that I didn’t mean to,” Gladys asked Mildred.
We both listened as Mildred relayed the message. “Oh, my dear child! It’s I who should be saying sorry. To you …” She paused as she turned earnestly to Mildred. “And to you, my dear girl. I still can’t quite believe this is happening. But I’m so sorry that I doubted you. I should have known better. Why is Gladys still here? You said you need my help?"
Mildred, being the soft-hearted woman she’s always been, went over and knelt beside Amelia. Stroking her arm, she smiled. “Gladys didn’t pass t’ the other side when she died ‘cause she’s watchin’ her Tommy. She were scared that the Venomous Asp would hurt him like he did t’ her–”
“Venomous Asp?” Amelia cut in, a puzzled look on her face. “What are you talking about?”
I smiled as I watched Mildred’s face go the colour of beetroot. “Oh, Lordy, I’s sorry, Amelia, I weren’t thinkin’, him bein’ your nephew an all!”
Amelia bust into a fit of laughter, finally breaking the strained look on her face. “You call my nephew the Venomous Asp? I must remember that ... it suits him.” She chuckled. “Go on, tell me—there can’t be much you have to say that I didn’t already know. She … you,” she quickly corrected herself as she looked around the room. “You thought you’d hidden your bruises from me, but I wasn’t blind, Gladys. I just wish you had confided in me. What is it you want me to help you with?”
“You mightn’t like what I’ve gotta tell you, but it’s worse than any beatin’ he gave her. Charles pushed her down the stairs. Gladys didn’t trip like he said.”
Amelia gasped as her hand flew to her chest. A look of horror and pain flooded her eyes, “Oh, my dear! I knew it! All this time I’d allowed myself to be hoodwinked into believing you’d tripped, and yet, at the same time, knowing it to be untrue!”
We sat there, quietly waiting as we watched Amelia stare into the distance, a glazed look in her eyes. “I’d always hoped he would be better than my brother … Charles’ father. But it seems that wasn’t to be. What a terrible tragedy this is. I’m so sorry, my dear girl.” As fast as her look of despair had taken hold, it disappeared. Her face hardened, and a look of steely determination flared in her eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
“Gladys wants him t' pay for murderin' her. She wants you t' help us bring him t' justice. Only then can she move int' the light….”
Continued…
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading this part. Written in UK English and Mildred's own dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 40
“You mightn’t like what I’ve gotta tell you, but it’s worse than any beatin’ he gave her. Charles pushed her down the stairs. Gladys didn’t trip like he said.”
Amelia gasped as her hand flew to her chest. A look of horror and pain flooded her eyes, “Oh, my dear! I knew it! All this time I’d allowed myself to be hoodwinked into believing you’d tripped, and yet, at the same time, knowing it to be untrue!”
We sat there, quietly waiting as we watched Amelia stare into the distance, a glazed look in her eyes. “I’d always hoped he would be better than my brother … Charles’ father. But it seems that wasn’t to be. What a terrible tragedy this is. I’m so sorry, my dear girl.” As fast as her look of despair had taken hold, it disappeared. Her face hardened, and a look of steely determination flared in her eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
“Gladys wants him t' pay for murderin' her. She wants you t' help us bring him t' justice. Only then can she move in t' the light….”
Chapter 41
Mildred looked at each one of us as we waited in the unnatural, lengthening silence. I watched her chew on her bottom lip, a habit she’d picked up of late when she was worried. Then, turning my attention away from her, I glanced over at Amelia. Her face was a blank canvass, giving me no indication of what was going through her mind.
It took me by surprise when she finally spoke—even Mildred jumped. “Where’s Gladys standing?” she asked, looking around the room.
“She’s right in front of you, sittin’ by your legs,” Mildred replied, having watched Gladys move over and sit there. “Her hand’s resting on your left knee.”
Amelia glanced down, and then with what was an instinctive reaction, she placed her hand there, as well. “Gladys, I promise you, hand on heart, I will do all in my power to help you. I don’t know how at the moment, but with Mildred’s help….” She turned to look at her and smiled when she received a nod of agreement. “I’m sure we’ll manage. I know Charles is my nephew, but there’s a limit to what I’m expected to overlook for the sake of the family name. Now the limit has been more than breached, and there’s no way I can allow him to get away with what he did to you. He must be punished for his monstrous crime.”
The relief I felt left me breathless. Thank goodness we’ve got past that hurdle. Now to get cracking on the plan. “Mildred, you are going to have to be our voices as we discuss what we want to do—”
“There is one thing I’d like to ask you,” Amelia said, cutting me off without realising it. “How is it that you can see and speak to Gladys and I can’t?”
That was a shock! How do we answer that? Mildred was eyeballing me, waiting for me to come up with an answer. I turned to Gladys but all she did was grimace and shrug. “I don’t know what to say to you. I didn’t give that a thought.”
Mildred rolled her eyes and turned back to Amelia. “I’s got what me mum told me is a gift.” I grinned when I saw her cross her fingers behind her back to negate the lie. “I don’t knows about it bein’ a gift, sometimes it can be a pain in the neck!” she said, throwing me and Gladys a withering look, which only served to make us laugh.
It was also received with a chuckle from Amelia. “I can well imagine. But, in this instance, I’m so pleased you have. Do you see other ghosts?” It was evident she wanted to chat about this, so all we could do was humour her until she was satisfied.
“There’s a load in the church, just like there was in the hospital. But they all knows why they died, so they just wander around lookin’ t’ see if’n there’s friends or family still hangin’ around. After a while they steps in t’ the light and goes home.”
“And goes home. What a delightful way to put it, Mildred. You’ve taken away all my fears of death, my dear. You don’t know how grateful I am to you for that. At my age … Well, I’m sure you’ve seen enough to understand.”
Now I see why she wanted to talk about it. She's frightened of dying, even though she's a good Christian woman.
Mildred just smiled her understanding and nodded. “There’s nothin’ for you t’ be worryin' about, Amelia. You’s a good woman. Can’t say your nephew's a good man, though.”
“No.” A flash of sadness passed over her eyes. “Now then, what are we going to do about him?”
Mildred turned to Gladys and me. “That’s a question for you.”
“If we can get him to own up to what he’s done, that would be the best way. But we know that won’t happen, although, we must give him the chance. Would Amelia mind talking to Charles, tell him she knows what he did and then advise him to turn himself in to the police?”
“I’ll ask her.” Mildred turned to Amelia and repeated what I’d said, including the part about giving him the chance to own up himself.
“Of course,” she replied without a moment’s hesitation. “I’ve told you I will help you in any way I can, and that doesn’t mean being selective in what I say or do. But how will I answer him if he should ask me how I know?”
I groaned. Amelia was good at bringing up questions none of us had thought of. Which was good because fresh input is what we wanted. “Any ideas, you two?” I asked. Silence was my reply.
Then Gladys clapped her hands. “I have! You could write a note as if it was from me, Veronica, or you, Mildred, and Aunt Amelia can tell him about it … and show him, come to that. He doesn’t know what my handwriting is like so that won’t be a problem.”
“Excellent!” I grinned. Now we can really make a start! “Mildred, will you repeat that to Amelia, please? And, while you’re at it, Gladys and I thought it would be a good idea if Amelia writes a note about her own suspicions and leaves it with someone she trusts. She can then add that information to her conversation with Charles, minus the whereabouts of the note, of course. She can explain to him if something should happen to her, the letter will be handed to the police.”
Mildred passed the message on, and Amelia was only too pleased to do it. “It will be nice to be able to do something positive to help you, Gladys, and it will give me such pleasure to get something over Charles.”
That sorted, Amelia went to her writing desk and sat down before taking out some note paper, a pen and a bottle of ink. Once she had written her note, she showed it to Mildred, who read it out, then gave it back. Amelia then put it into an envelope and sealed it.
It was my turn to write one from Gladys. Amelia remained seated without saying a word as I moved the paper over to me. When I glanced up, I smiled to see her look of astonishment as she watched the pen appear to write by itself. After I’d finished the note to everyone’s approval, I covered it with the blotting paper. Amelia made sure the ink was dry before folding the note and putting it into an envelope. This one she left open.
“That should cover all eventualities,” I said once it was all done. “Now to put the plan into action. Do you know if the Vice Admiral is at home today, Gladys?”
“No, I don’t. But it’s not hard to find out. I’ll nip next door and have a look.” With that, she walked straight through the wall and disappeared. Mildred explained to Amelia what was happening.
Moments later, Gladys returned. “He’s still having his breakfast,” she told us, “and it looks as if we are in luck—he’s not in his Naval uniform, so he must be working at home today. I also had a thought. I think it would be wise if we go with Aunt Amelia. If Charles starts anything, we can make things uncomfortable for him straight away. It would also add credence to what Aunty tells him.”
“Good idea.” I watched as Mildred relayed the plan to Amelia and was pleased to see her delight at the knowledge.
“Knowing Gladys is with me will strengthen my confidence,” Amelia said with an added perkiness in her voice. “I take it you won’t be coming with me?”
“No, we thinks it’d be better if I don’t. But you’ll not be alone.”
Amelia nodded. “I’m sure you’re right, my dear girl.”
She has no idea there will be two behind the scene helpers. No reason to let her know, either, it might be too much for her. Let’s just hope this works and Mildred and I can go back to our own lives.
Amelia stood up and leant on her walking stick. “I’ll go and finish getting ready, Mildred. It won’t take me long, and then I’ll meet you back here for any last briefing.” She chuckled and shook her head. “I sound like one of those war spies. Isn’t this exciting?”
Waiting on the step outside the Vice Admiral’s house, Amelia stood ramrod straight with a steely determination. Her chin up, shoulders back, she was the picture of true British grit. I was proud to be a part of this.
The door opened and the butler stood aside to let her in. “Good morning, Madam. The Vice Admiral is in his study. If you’d like to wait in the drawing room, I shall inform him you are here.”
“Thank you, Barker.” Amelia swept past him and headed towards the first door off the wide entrance hall.
It was a pleasant enough room, slightly different from the one in Amelia's house, which had a more feminine atmosphere. It was darker, for a start. I imagined this would be where the gentlemen would retire to after dinner for their cigar and brandy. Amelia chose one of the stiff, upright chairs by the window to sit on and then looked out the window while she waited.
It wasn’t long before the door opened and Charles walked in. He didn’t look at all pleased to see her, rather, he was annoyed to have been disturbed.
“Aunt Amelia, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you this early in the morning?”
“Good morning, Charles. I have come on a matter of urgency, nothing frivolous, as you may possibly assume. You might want to sit down.”
Charles frowned, but said nothing. He moved to a chair opposite Amelia by the window. “So, what’s all this about? You have me intrigued.”
“As you well know, Charles, I am not a person who dallies with the ridiculous. I am, as some would say, quite unshakable in my beliefs. That said, I was forced to dismiss some of my more rigid beliefs today, and I must say, it was no light matter.”
Charles sat watching Amelia as she spoke, and his eyes became guarded. He knows she’s had a visit from Gladys. It was written plainly on his face.
“What are you going on about? I don’t have time to sit here and listen to riddles,” he said, his tone not exactly encouraging.
“Oh, it’s not a riddle, dear Charles. It’s much more than that. I’ll not waste time dithering but come straight to the point. I had a visit … actually, I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but from this … visitor, what I learnt is something that I didn’t want to believe. Had I not been shown proof, I’d not be standing in front of you today, accusing you of murdering your wife. Gladys has told me you deliberately pushed her down the stairs. What do you have to say for yourself…?”
Continued....
| Author Notes |
Thank you again for reading my story, I really appreciate all the input you give me. This is written in UK English and Mildred's dialect. If you happen along some
errors, please let me know, I'd be very grateful. :)) |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
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End of part 41
‘What are you going on about? I don’t have time to sit here and listen to riddles,’ he said, his tone not exactly encouraging.
‘Oh, it’s not a riddle, dear Charles. It’s much more than that. I’ll not waste time dithering but come straight to the point. I had a visit … in reality, I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but from this … visitor, what I learnt is something that I didn’t want to believe. Had I not been shown proof, I’d not be standing in front of you today, accusing you of murdering your wife. Gladys has told me you deliberately pushed her down the stairs. What do you have to say for yourself…?’
Part 42
Whoever came up with the old adage, 'if looks could kill,' most certainly had Amelia’s nephew in mind. The icy looks directed at Amelia, akin to spears of evil, would have sent a lesser person to her grave. I was reassured to note that Charles was not to be thus rewarded.
I waited for the eruption, but it didn’t come. Instead, when he spoke, his voice was calm and composed, yet, at the same time, discharging a chilling threat. “My dear Aunt, I have been so worried these last few years for your sanity. Since Gladys’ unfortunate accident, I’ve noticed a marked deterioration in your mind. I see now I was right to be concerned.”
He gave Amelia a piercing look, but she remained poised and unflustered. A little smile tickled her lips, and I couldn’t help but be impressed with how she was handling herself.
“I think it’s you who has lost his mind, Charles. I have something here that might be of interest to you. It’s a letter I was given today. I’ve been led to believe that you've recently become reacquainted with the author.” Amelia opened her purse and brought out the letter I wrote on Gladys’ behalf. She reached out her hand and offered it to him.
Charles stared at the envelope but didn’t bother to take it. When she jiggled it in her fingers he snatched it away. Barely taking his eyes off hers, he pulled out the note. Only then did he give it his whole attention. We all watched his expression as he read the words, but the only indication he gave that it might be bothering him was a spasmodic twitch to his eyebrow.
The length of time he stared at the letter was probably not as long as it felt. With slow, deliberate movements, Charles crumpled it up and put it in his pocket. “What do you think this will prove? A letter from a ghost? I sometimes wonder whether you are indeed my father’s sister, or some brainless idiot’s brat swapped at birth. What I can promise you is, if you try making this public, not only will you be the laughing stock of London, no one will ever believe you. Neither will anyone condemn me for having you restrained and put into a secure nursing home. For your own safety, of course.”
The smile on Amelia’s face remained; in fact, it brightened and now lit up her eyes. “You may try, Charles, but I doubt you will succeed. What I would suggest you do, my dear, is go to the police station and confess. Your soul might be saved if you do that. Otherwise, I dread to think what will be in store for you after your death.”
There followed a malignant silence steeped with hostility. When Charles blasted out an unexpected laugh that was so sinister it sent a shiver of iced needles down my spine, I wondered if he was indeed the devil’s spawn. Even Amelia was taken aback.
“Save my soul! Ha! You ridiculous woman. And Gladys, my late delusional wife, wondered why we won’t give women the vote.” His face twisted into a menacing scowl. “I would suggest you keep that vindictive mouth of yours fastened tight, my dear Aunt, and be very careful how you go.” The open-ended warning was as plain as if he’d just come straight out and threatened her.
Amelia tilted her head to one side and stared, unflinching, into Charles’ eyes. “Are you trying to intimidate me, Charles? If you are, I should add that Gladys isn’t the only one who has written a letter. I have also written one to be opened if I suffer from an accidental or premature death. It’s in safekeeping, and, of course, it’s not at home.”
With that, Amelia stood up, smoothed her skirts and retrieved her walking stick, which had been leaning against the windowsill. “I think that concludes our meeting for today.” After walking over to the door, she turned to look at him, the smile gone and replaced with a frosty glare. “Be careful, Charles. You should know … I am not alone.”
I decided to emphasise the fact that Gladys was here. Easing my fingers inside his pocket, I retrieved the screwed-up letter and took it over to Amelia. The look on Charles' face as he watched the letter float through the air gave me the greatest pleasure.
Amelia took the letter and put it back in her purse. “You needn’t disturb Barker, Charles, I can see myself out. Good day to you.”
Back in her own home, she collapsed in her chair. “Dear Mother of God, I cannot believe what I’ve just done.” She leant forward and pulled the cord for Martha. “I need something stronger, but I’ll settle for a cup of tea for now,” she said, grinning at Mildred. “And then I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Oh, Lordy, Amelia, I’ve been waitin’ t’ find out if he’d done somethin’ t’ you. What happened? Was it bad?”
“Bad? No, in fact, I haven’t enjoyed myself this much since I was a small child in long knickers,” she said as she laughed. “What I want to know now is, what do we do next?”
Gladys and I chuckled. Aunt Amelia came through magnificently. It was a pleasure to watch her in action. “I always knew she was a lady ahead of her time; if she was younger, she'd make a wonderful suffragette leader.” Gladys looked at Amelia with fondness and admiration written all over her face. “So, what do we do next?”
It was at that moment we were startled by a knock at the front door. A visitor? A few seconds later, we heard muffled voices, and Tommy walked into the sitting room.
Mildred leapt to her feet. “What are you doin’ here? Has somethin’ happened?”
He chuckled and walked straight over to Mildred. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her close and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “No, the only thing wrong is you’re not there. I’ve come to see if you are doing as I asked, and resting.” He looked over Mildred’s head and smiled at his aunt. “Is she, Aunt Amelia?”
Without waiting for an answer, he went over and kissed her on her cheek. “I must say, Aunt, you look very bright and breezy this morning.” He straightened up and looked at them, suspicion now sneaking into his eyes … both had beaming smiles on their faces. “What have you two been up to?”
Amelia threw her head back and laughed. “What on Earth could an old woman of my advanced years, with arthritic knees and hips, possibly be up to?” She glanced over at Mildred, who, I could see, was sending out a warning signal. “We are just pleased to see you. … Isn’t that right, Mildred?”
“Yes, but if you’s got some suggestions, we’s ready t’ listen t’ them.” Mildred gave him a gentle thump on the arm.
“Well, I came to see if you’d like to go for a stroll in St James Park? I think we both need a break.”
Mildred looked at Amelia. “Will you be alright if I goes out for a while?”
I noticed she didn’t look at Gladys or me. I started to chuckle again, but she still ignored us. I did observe a little gleam in Amelia’s eyes, though, and didn’t need ten guesses to know what was going on in her mind.
“Of course, I will. Go on, be off with you. The sun is out now, so enjoy it while it lasts. If there’s one thing you can rely on to be unreliable, it’s our English weather.” She smiled and turned her cheek as Tommy bent over to kiss her again.
After they'd left, Amelia studied the room. “Are you still here, Gladys? Oh, dear, I wish I could see you like our friend Mildred can.”
I turned and looked for something to lift but was beaten to it when Gladys picked up a small invitation card leant against the wall on the mantelpiece. She then dropped it in Amelia’s lap.
“Oh, Gladys, I’m so pleased you are. Although, I dearly wish you were here in body, not just in spirit. My joy is to know I will be with you soon. This old body of mine is struggling these days. But, before I even think of that, I have a job to do now … and I will see it through, my dear.”
Amelia looked around the room, then dropped her eyes to the invitation card in her lap. “I would so much like to talk to you about Tommy, dear. What do you think about him walking out with Mildred? Isn't it wonderful? He couldn’t find a more caring young lady than her. Do you agree, Gladys? I would like to know that Tommy has your approval, too.”
Her eyes dropped again to the card in her lap and she beamed with pleasure to see it lifted into the air and waved up and down. “Yes … you are saying, yes? Oh, I knew you would be pleased.”
Gladys turned to me and grimaced. “I would be pleased, very pleased if I thought she would be staying here. But all I can see is pain for both of them.”
There was no way I could relieve her distress. I knew, deep inside, that it will be hard for Mildred, too. This is the first time I’ve seen her glow with happiness. I put that thought to the back of my mind when I realised Amelia was still talking.
“… it’s been a long time since I’ve stood up to him, and I did enjoy it.”
An hour passed this way with Amelia talking and Gladys waving the card about before Mildred and Tommy came back. When they walked into the room, I just knew from Mildred’s face something had happened….
Continued….
| Author Notes |
This is my new book cover. My everlasting thanks to Pam and Robert Spice for coming up with the new title: It finishes the trilogy perfectly. Now I have the words, This Time, and, That Time, in all three books:
This Time - That Time. book 1 Beyond That Time. book 2 This Time It's Personal. book 3 Thank you all so much for continuing to read my story, I really appreciate every one of you. This is written in UK English and Mildred's dialect. If you note any errors, I'd be so grateful if you'd let me know. Thank you. :)) |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 42
An hour passed this way with Amelia talking and Daphne waving the card about before Mildred and Tommy came back. When they walked into the room, I just knew from Mildred’s face something had happened….
Part 43
Gladys and I shared a look of apprehension as Tommy and Mildred walked into the room. There was none of the bright cheerfulness they’d shared with each other before they went for their stroll. What could have happened?
Although Tommy wore his natural, warm smile, on closer inspection I noticed his eyes were shadowed with concern. His arm curled in a gentle manner around Mildred’s waist with his hand resting on her hip.
The story was quite different when I studied Mildred’s expression. Her false smile did not quite cloak what she was trying to hide. She didn’t fool me for a second. It was obvious she had sensed my eyes penetrating her façade because she turned away.
Amelia appeared not to notice and gave the couple a broad smile. “Did you have a nice stroll? I see the sun stayed out for you.”
“We were most fortunate, Aunt Amelia. It is with regret that I have to go back to the hospital.” He turned to face Mildred, and putting his fingers under her chin, he tilted it up so he could look into her eyes. “You promise me you’ll go and rest for a while?”
“I will. ... I didn’t realise I were that tired. I’s sorry I messed up our walk, Tommy,” she mumbled.
“Don’t you start worrying about that,” he told her with an affectionate smile. “There’ll be plenty of time for more. Let’s concentrate on getting you back to your normal, happy self again.” He paused, his concern returning. “If you’re still tired tomorrow, I will ask one of my fellow doctors to examine you. It might be a simple case of your body needing an iron boost.”
Without a moment's hesitation, he turned to Amelia. “Look after her for me will you, Aunt? She can be quite stubborn when she wants to be.”
I can attest to that! Is it just a lack of iron? Somehow, I don’t think so. If I’m reading her right, and I’m sure I am, it’s something quite different.
After Tommy had gone, Mildred made her apologies and went over to the door. It was obvious by her discreet nod that she wanted to talk, so I followed her up to her room. As soon as the bedroom door had closed, she slumped down on her bed, dropping her head onto her chest. I waited while she collected herself. When she looked up, the despair in her eyes broke my heart.
“He wants more’n I can give, Miss Veronica. Oh, Lordy, why does it have t’ be like this? It’s never bothered me before. Now you an' me both knows I’s not normal, and I don’t mean it like you’re thinkin’,” she said with a trace of a smile. “I mean t' say, there can’t be too many people who’s gone an’ died, been buried and then popped up again, can there? I can’t say ‘yes’ knowin’ all that, an' any rate, I could be whisked away at any minute! I just dunno who I am anymore. It were much simpler when I were only Mrs Humphries’ maid, an’ your friend.”
What could I say? She was right, and there was nothing either of us could do to change things. But I had to say something. I sat down beside her so we could talk, with the hope I could offer her some comfort, too.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Mildred. What you've just said is true. At least, at the moment it is. Tell Tommy you don’t want to make any commitments at the moment, not while the war is still raging around us. That will give you some breathing space, and, in the meantime, you can continue being friends. If he’s half the man we know him to be, I’m sure he’ll understand and accept that reason.”
Mildred nodded. “Mmm, I’ll do that, then.”
“Look, if there is any way this can happen, we’ll find it. Don’t give up, please!” I looked at her, my whole being wishing so much that things could be different for her. I wanted my friend to have what I have, a loving husband and perhaps children of her own. It’s not too much for anyone to ask. So why shouldn’t Mildred have them?
A smile found its way into Mildred’s eyes, giving me hope she’d be alright. “If there’s a way, I knows you’ll find it.” She went to throw her arms around me and fell right through my nonexistent body, leaving us both laughing like insane hyenas.
Although her tiredness had nothing to do with Tommy, the strain of the last few weeks had left her quite exhausted. This being her first experience at time-travelling, I could see now how it had taken its toll. I wished I could get her home for a few days to give her a break from all this. As that was impossible, the only alternative was to suggest she rest for a couple of hours with the promise I’d come back later.
As soon as I entered the sitting room where Gladys was waiting, she came rushing over. “Did you find out what happened?” I knew she was worried about them both but more concerned about Tommy, which was natural. I told her what Mildred had said, and she agreed with the advice I’d offered.
I sat down, suddenly at a loss as to what to do, and mentioned my feelings to Gladys. “I want to get started working on Charles, so what do you think of putting plan B into operation and going to his office now?”
The smile that lit Gladys’ eyes revealed her own eagerness to begin. “Brilliant idea. Let’s go.”
I was already moving towards the door when I realised Gladys wasn’t following me. “What’s up?”
“It’s Aunt Amelia. She’ll wonder why I’m not waving the card at her. I can’t just go.”
I went over to her desk where the paper and pen were still on display and wrote her a short note, as if it had been written by Gladys, explaining where she was going and that she’d be back soon.
Gladys read it and gave a relieved smile before taking it over to Amelia and dropping it on her lap. That sorted, we went on our way.
The War Office was bustling and buzzing with activity. Naval officers were coming and going, and civil servants dashed around carrying wads of paperwork. Everyone wore grim expressions.
Gladys ignored them all and led me straight to Charles’ office. Walking through the door into the reception area, the first thing I noticed was his secretary, busy bashing away on an old Remington typewriter. It’s not old at all, you nit-wit, in fact, it’s quite new for 1915. Comparing it with the quieter, touch-typing keyboard on our computer, and Mildred’s laptop back home in 1996, this one sounded noisy and slow.
We moved on through another door into Charles’ private office. This was plush, with leather upholstered armchairs, a drinks cabinet, and another leather chair behind his large mahogany desk.
“No one is allowed in his office when he isn’t here. He keeps it locked,” Gladys told me as she traced her fingers over the bust of someone, I imagined, must be well-known to be so honoured, although, who it was I hadn’t a clue.
On the wall behind the desk was an imposing, glass-framed picture of King George V, and farther over was another of Lord Nelson. As I stared at the pictures, a naughty thought floated into my mind. “Did you say no one can get into this office until Charles unlocks the door?”
“Yes. Why?” Gladys came and stood beside me as I continued to look at the picture of King George.
“Do you think a pair of glasses would suit him?” I asked.
“Glasses? Oh, spectacles … Oh! I see what you mean.” She giggled, then tilted her head as if pondering the idea. “Do you know, I think they would.”
I went over to Charles’ desk, and, picking up his pen, I dipped it into the inkwell. Back at the picture, I carefully drew a circle on the glass around each of King George’s eyes and stood back.
Hmm, that doesn’t show up as well as I’d hoped. What I’d give for a marking pen. I looked around for something else to use, but there was nothing. I can’t let this defeat me.
With that in mind, my resolve strengthened. Going back and forth to the inkwell, I continued going over and over the circles until they were finally thick enough to see. “Perhaps some curls on his brows?”
“I’m sure he’d be delighted,” Gladys said. Tapping her finger on her lips, she looked just like an important art critic examining an iconic work. We stood there for a moment admiring my outrageous additions.
“That should do it.” Pleased with what I’d achieved, I suggested we get back to see if Mildred was up.
We had just passed through the door and turned towards the stairs leading down to the ground floor, when Gladys stopped and gasped. “Oh, dear!”
“What? Oh! … Hell’s bells!” Charles, resplendent in his naval uniform, came striding towards us—but it was who was walking alongside him that took me by surprise most of all. There, large as life and heading towards the Venomous Asp's office, was … the First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill....
Continued....
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading this part, I do so appreciate your support over the last few months. This is written in UK English and Mildred's dialect. |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 43
We had just passed through the door and turned towards the stairs leading down to the ground floor, when Gladys stopped and gasped. ‘Oh, dear!’
‘What? Oh! … Hell’s bells!’ Charles, resplendent in his naval uniform, came striding towards us—but it was who was walking alongside him that took me by surprise most of all. There, large as life and heading towards the Venomous Asp's office, was … the First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill....
Part 44
“We can’t leave now!” Gladys exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement. “Come on … let’s get back into Charles’ office so we can watch their reactions. I can’t believe this is happening … it’s too good to be true. Winston Churchill here, now, with Charles! Isn’t it just so much fun?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at Gladys’ exhilaration. This was the beginning of the end for our Venomous Asp. How long it would take, I had no idea, but Gladys and I were going to enjoy every moment of it. We hurried back to his office at the same time as they walked into the reception area. We could hear the low murmurings of Charles speaking to his secretary before coming over to his door.
The key clicked as it turned in the lock, which had Gladys’ anticipation almost reaching bursting point. She quivered just the way jelly does when you scoop it out of the bowl. I couldn’t say I fared much better.
Charles held the door open for Churchill, before entering the room himself. Once he'd closed the door, a feeling of disappointment hit me as I noted that neither man had spotted the ridiculed portrait.
After Churchill put his hat on the stand, he walked over to the nearest armchair, sat down, and took out one of his large cigars. After using his guillotine cutter, he lit it, then took several short puffs that filled the room with a fog of smoke.
While Churchill busied himself with his cigar, Charles poured two whiskies into fine crystal glasses and brought them over to the square coffee table positioned between them.
“A bit early in the day for whisky, isn’t it?” I looked at my watch, but it had stopped. I’m sure that’s the exact time I was transported from 1996. I’d never noticed that before.
Gladys shrugged. “Why won’t they look at the portrait?” She groaned, glaring at the two men as they sat talking.
She’d read my mind. This wasn’t going the way we wanted. Churchill had his back to the portraits, and although Charles was facing the right direction, his attention had turned to the chart he'd opened up on the table. I wonder if it’s the same one that he’s been working on at home.
I moved over to have a look and became alarmed to find it was. Charles pointed out the area with all the markings and written details of his preferred sea-battle site. My anxiety continued as he began his rhetoric to convince Churchill to alter the location. It was imperative that I stop this discussion right now. As luck would have it, an opportunity emerged that seemed too good to miss when Charles lifted his glass towards his mouth.
Thank you, God! Before he’d managed to put it to his lips, my hand shot out like a ballistic missile and tilted the glass. The whisky spilt out down his chin and onto his uniform.
Charles jumped up, but straightaway fell back again onto his chair because he was unable to keep his balance. He tried to straighten his arm to keep from spilling any more on the chart.
This time, he managed to get to his feet. Pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket, he tried to mop it up. Churchill sat there, one eyebrow raised, and I have to say, looking somewhat irate as he watched his Vice-Admiral make a complete ass of himself.
I noticed Charles seething as his eyes flitted around the room. “I’m so sorry, Sir. Did any go on you?” He almost choked trying to contain his rage. Now that he knew Gladys was here, he seemed completely unnerved, but he still hadn’t seen the King’s portrait, which was so frustrating.
“No….!” Churchill burst out as he pushed himself back into his chair and took his cigar out of his mouth. “Good grief, man … watch what you’re doing!”
We'd all watched Charles overbalance while trying to mop up the liquid. Unfortunately for him, in his attempt to save himself, he'd ended up knocking Churchill's whisky over, as well!
That’s the second time he’s been unsteady on his feet. It would seem that he’s already had a few drinks. I glanced at Churchill. Oh dear, he does look a tad angry! I grinned and shared a knowing look with Gladys.
As Charles tried hard to regain his dignity, I contemplated a practical way to direct his attention to the portrait. I chewed my lip in exasperation. Everything was going so well, and I felt convinced my artistic additions would be Charles’ ultimate embarrassment. Then it came to me. Gladys had used a card to let Amelia know she was there, so a similar tactic might work.
“Let’s have a look for something to wave in front of the portrait, Gladys. But be careful not to let Churchill see anything moving, or that will defeat the whole object of what we’re trying to achieve. Charles alone must be blamed.”
Gladys nodded and began looking around, until... “How about that?” she asked, pointing to Churchill’s bowler hanging on the hat stand behind him.
“Perfect!” I went over and lifted it off. Then, with an absurd grin on my face, I started waving it up and down in front of the King’s portrait. I turned sideways to see what Charles was doing when he stopped talking. His bulging eyes, which reminded me so much of a toad’s, clearly portrayed his absolute horror. It had Gladys in fits of laughter.
As soon as I saw Churchill start to turn around to see what Charles was looking at, I dropped to a squat and placed his hat on the floor. Now all he could see was the portrait and its ridiculous additions.
It was Churchill’s turn to stare; his jaw dropped, leaving his cigar dangling from his bottom lip. He grabbed it, before it fell, and turned back to Charles with a look of abhorrence and indignation.
“I suggest you explain yourself, Sir!” Churchill spluttered. “And it had better be good.”
From the state of Charles’ appearance, you’d think Churchill’s voice had brought him back from one nightmare straight into another. Ashen-faced, he marched over to the portrait, his whisky soaked handkerchief in hand.
It was as if time had momentarily stood still as we watched him close his eyes and take a deep breath. In slow motion, Charles bent down to pick up Churchill's crushed bowler, which he had just stepped on and tried to straighten it out to no avail. In what could only be described as a cringe-making, sluggish rate, he lifted his head and faced Winston Churchill, who looked as if he was about to release an eruption deadlier than Mount Vesuvius.
For a moment, I did feel a little bit of sympathy for Charles … but for no more than a moment. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Gladys came and stood beside me, obviously in her element.
The intense fury that contorted Charles’ face clashed with his acute humiliation. This was going better than either of us could have wished for.
“Well? Speak up, Man! Do you have nothing to say for yourself? What is the meaning of this … this treasonous act against your King?” Churchill spat out furiously. Now standing by the portrait, he yanked his ruined hat from Charles’ hands, his face purple with indignation as his eyes moved from him to glare at the King’s portrait again.
“B …but, it wasn’t my doing! I would never make a mockery of the King’s portrait in this way! You have to believe me,” he pleaded, his voice reminding me of a schoolboy caught out in a prank.
Churchill’s eyes were full of disdain as he stared back at him. “Next you’ll be telling me your secretary did it. Everyone knows you keep your office locked at all times, Charles, so we both know you're the only person who could have done this to the King's portrait without being seen.”
The silence hung like an ominous gremlin in the air as Charles realised the truth of it. How could he say his dead wife did it, without making himself look a complete idiot?
A spectrum of emotions flashed in rapid succession across his face as he recognised his career was virtually ruined, and there was nothing he could say or do to prevent it. He spun around, his eyes darting like a weasel trapped in a rottweiler’s kennel, trying to find a way out.
A furious torrent of verbal abuse directed at Gladys burst out unrestrained as he completely lost the plot. “You bitch! You conniving, scheming, nauseating bitch!” he screeched as his arms flayed out trying to hit his invisible wife. It was getting funnier and funnier by the second.
Churchill stood by the door with a horrified expression on his face. He then shook his head before turning and walking out of the room.
Oblivious to this and everything else, Charles picked up his whisky glass and threw it in his frenzied rage. His eyes were wild, unseeing, and no longer appeared to register as the glass exploded into thousands of jagged shards when it smashed into the portrait….
Continued….
| Author Notes | Thank you for reading this part, I really appreciate you all. This is written in UK English and Mildred's dialect. :) Two more parts to go! |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 44
A furious torrent of verbal abuse directed at Gladys burst out unrestrained as he completely lost the plot. ‘You bitch! You conniving, scheming, nauseating bitch!’ he screeched as his arms flayed out trying to hit his invisible wife. It was getting funnier and funnier by the second.
Churchill stood by the door with a horrified expression on his face. He then shook his head before turning and walking out of the room.
Oblivious to this, and everything else, Charles picked up his whisky glass and threw it in his frenzied rage. His eyes were wild, unseeing, and no longer appearing to register as the glass exploded into thousands of jagged shards when it smashed into the portrait…
| Author Notes | Thank you so much for reading this part. I'm sorry the length ran away from me. I had planned the next part to be the end, but that was even longer, so you have two more parts to read. I hope you can stay with me. This is written in UK English and Mildred's dialect. Thanks again, everyone. xx |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
End of part 45
‘YOU WILL LET MILDRED STAY; DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU WILL!’ I took several deep breaths as I tried to remain calm, but my anger could not be tamed, nor my desperate need for this to happen. ‘If you don’t do this, I’ll NEVER do anything for you again. Please, please let Mildred have this time,’ I pleaded.
‘I don’t want anything for myself. I just want my dear friend to have what I already have, a man who loves her. Do this, and I will willingly carry on being your … whatever I am. If you don’t, IF YOU DON’T, YOU CAN FORGET COMING TO ME AGAIN FOR HELP … BECAUSE I WON’T BLOODY DO IT...!’
Part 46
Unknown Time
“Well, Gentlemen, here we are. Mildred has obliviously steered Veronica to this point which we knew she would do in her unassuming and innocent way. We can safely say the timeline is safe. What happens now will shock, and hopefully, please everyone.” Jowell stood up while holding his goblet and raised it in the air. “A toast, Gentlemen, to Mildred and Veronica, two remarkable women!”
The clunk of gold goblets, and the cheer that responded to Jowell’s toast, effectively revealed everyone’s pleasure.
“A lot has been achieved since we began this journey, and now we must honour our pledge to Mildred. Veronica is angry, and rightly so. Mildred is upset as we expected … bearing in mind ...” Leif said, leaving his words hanging in the air and his grin spreading from ear to ear.
The atmosphere around the table had an almost celebratory quality as everyone smiled in harmonious accord.
Jowell brought out the Book of Accounts, and all eyes went to the second half of the book. It had stopped glowing. “As we can now see, Mildred and Veronica have managed to stop the glitch in the timeline, thereby assuring Earth's future for at least the coming millennium. Since we all know the facts surrounding Mildred, I have an idea I’d like to put to you….”
1915
Feeling a bit better after my rant, and wanting to keep my word, I decided to go and look in on Charles. I passed through his front door and made my way through the rooms. With no sign of Tommy downstairs, I continued up to the bedrooms.
I couldn’t hear a sound. The oppressive quietness gave the house a tomblike quality which made me shudder. What with that, and the disapproving eyes of Charles’ ancestors glaring down at me from their portraits, I had an intense desire to turn and run out of this place.
Don’t be such a twit, Veronica, they’re just ghastly paintings.
I had to look in all the rooms before I found Tommy standing beside his father as he lay sound asleep and snoring with painful, ear-piercing clarity. He had hold of his wrist as he checked his father’s pulse. The laudanum had done its work. I could go back and report my findings to the girls. Pleased to get away from here, I dashed back down the stairs and out onto the street.
It still puzzled me as to why we hadn’t been sent back to our own time yet. With Gladys telling us that she would make sure he would never recover and go back to his job, it didn’t make sense. There was nothing I could do but leave it in the hands of the Powers That Be and hope nothing went wrong. I wanted so much to go home now. Just the thought of my children and James had me homesick.
The next morning, Mildred went back to work with Tommy, so Gladys and I went along, too. We were surprised to see there weren’t as many patients as there had been the last time we were there. It made it easier for the remaining doctors and nurses. Even the ghosts were not as prevalent now.
“Being in a church is obviously helping the patients heal faster,” Gladys remarked with a bright smile.
I started to reply when we heard quite a kafuffle up ahead and went to investigate. I walked through the line of patients and stopped, unable to move, when I saw Mildred lying on the floor, and Tommy kneeling beside her.
“What happened? Did anyone see?” Tommy called out to the people standing nearby.
“I did,” a young scruffy lad said as he pushed through to stand in front of them. “She were puttin’ a bandage on me leg, cause I fell over and it were bleedin’ all over the place … an’ it ‘urts. An’ then she closed ‘er eyes an’ dropped jus’ like a dead bird! I never dun nuffin’ to ‘er.”
Tommy checked her pulse as I watched, becoming more frantic as the seconds passed. Why would she faint like that? That’s most unlike Mildred.
After checking her over, Tommy raised her up to rest her head on his arm. “Mildred, can you open your eyes? Come on, Love, open them for me, will you?”
A slight moan could be heard, and Tommy held her closer. “That’s it, Love, open your eyes.”
Gladys and I were willing her to do it, as well. We watched as her lids flickered, and then opened.
“How do you feel? What happened? Oh, Mildred, you had me scared half to death!” Tommy said, barely taking a breath as he held her close.
Mildred chuckled. “I’s alright. Don’t know what happened. One minute I were sortin’ a lad out, and then you was callin’ me name.” She struggled to sit up and look around.
“We’re over here, Mildred,” I called, waving my hand. Mildred didn’t even blink, she just looked straight through me.
Then she smiled. “There you are,” she said looking at the lad. “Help me up Tommy, I’s gotta finish his bandage.”
I frowned and called her name once more ... louder this time. But, again, Mildred didn’t respond. I went over and stood right in front of her. “Mildred?”
“Do you think she hit her head?” Gladys asked when Mildred continued to ignore us.
I didn’t know what to think. This hadn’t happened before. Tommy helped her to her feet and turned her to face him. The love, mingled with concern, showed in his eyes, as plain as the love for him showed in Mildred’s. “This isn’t how I’d planned to ask you, but you have my mind so befuddled, I can barely concentrate—”
“Yes!” Mildred cut in as her eyes glistened with tears. “Oh Lordy, you big softy—‘course I’ll marry you!”
Tommy laughed, and scooping her up into his arms, he swung her around as everyone clapped and cheered.
“What just happened?” Gladys asked me.
“I’m not sure, but I think Tommy and Mildred are going to be married! But, how?” I was so worried that all this was about to crumble and leave Mildred in a heap of misery.
“But … What if she’s taken away again? Oh, I can’t bear to see my Tommy in pain; he’s going to be devastated when she’s gone.”
“Oh Lordy, what’s all this fuss about? Tommy an’ me’s gonna be just fine. So, let’s be seein’ some smiles on those faces.”
Gladys and I spun around and found ourselves staring into the much older eyes of my dear, sweet Mildred as she was before her death and rebirth over five years ago in my time. “Mildred? But how? What….”
Stay tuned for the final part on Sunday!
| Author Notes | Thank you, everyone, for reading this part. one part left and the epilogue. This is written in UK English and Mildred's unique dialect. If you find any nits, please let me know, I'm always happy to be told. xxx |
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
I'm sorry this last chapter is so long, I was going to split it and put some into an epilogue. But as I wrote it out, I realised it would be best in one whole piece. I've upped the pumps for your kindness in reading it. Thank you.
End of part 46
‘I’m not sure, but I think Tommy and Mildred are going to be married! But, how?’ I was so worried that all this was about to crumble, leaving Mildred in a heap of misery.
‘But … What if she’s taken away again? Oh, I can’t bear to see my Tommy in pain; he’s going to be devastated when she’s gone.’
‘Oh Lordy, what’s all this fuss about? Tommy an’ me’s gonna be just fine. So, let’s be seein’ some smiles on those faces.’
Gladys and I spun around and found ourselves staring into the much older eyes of my dear, sweet Mildred as she was before she died in my time. ‘Mildred? But how? What….’
THE FINAL CHAPTER IN THE TRILOGY
Mildred laughed. “I’s got lots t’ tell you both. Shall we go back t’ Amelia’s house?”
Gladys had stood there, open-mouthed, all this time as she stared at a much older version of Mildred.
“Come on, Mother-in-law,” Mildred said with a chuckle.
I turned to look for the last time at my young Mildred, still laughing and being held in Tommy’s arms, both glowing with happiness. My own elation for them couldn’t be greater.
*****
Gladys and I sat on the bed and the older Mildred sat on the chair beside it. “I’ll try t’ explain as clear as I can. You can butt in anytime.”
I looked at Gladys with a questioning lift of my eyebrow. When she nodded, I turned back to Mildred. It seemed strange to see her as Nanny Mildred again, but comforting at the same time. “Okay, we’re all ears.”
Mildred shuffled on her chair and grinned. “This is gonna be the weirdest story you’ve ever heard. First off, I’s only just got all me memories back. I s’pose you could say I’s been born three times. The first time, when I were born a baby, were at home in 1887 in the East End of London, but me mum died in childbirth, so it were just me’n’ Dad. Neighbours looked after me when Dad went t’ work. When I were twelve, I went in t’ service.” Mildred paused. “You okay so far?”
Okay? Gobsmacked is how I’d put it. I just nodded.
“This is where it changes. When the war started, me dad were too old to join up, but he did what he could. That’s when I started helpin’ in the hospital an’ first met Tommy; I were twenty-seven. Me dad were one of the first t’ be killed when this lot of bombin’ started.”
“You knew Tommy when we came here?” My head was already spinning. Goodness knows what was coming next!
“Yes. But I didn’t remember him, or any of this ‘til I passed out jus’ now. An’, by the way, that other me don’t know nothin' about you or what’s goin’ t’ happen in her future.” Mildred looked at Gladys. “I’s sorry, Gladys, but Amelia won’t remember any of this, either.”
I think Gladys was too flummoxed to worry about that. She did what I’d previously done, just nodded.
We were both in a state of utter bewilderment. “Carry on. This is one hell of a story.”
Mildred chuckled. “I’s not got t’ the best bits, yet. I died in 1940, just before me grandson were born.”
“You died?” I gasped.
“Your grandson?” Gladys whispered. “Tommy and you have a child?”
“Yes, t’ both. That were the first time I got t’ hear of them powers … an’ don’t be askin' me what they’s like, ‘cause I don’t remember. They’s good at messin’ with memories—'specially mine. I was asked if I’d help you and dear Mrs Humphries, who were bein' ill-treated by her father-in-law, Sir John. The thing is, I never remembered me previous life ‘cause the Powers sorta took them memories away an’ all. I told them I’d be wantin’ ‘em back again when the job were done. Now I’ve come full circle, they’s given me them back as they promised.”
“What did you have ... your baby, a boy or girl?” Gladys wanted to know more about this, which I could quite understand.
“We have a little girl next year. Maud Gladys Pembrock … Her middle name’s for you.” Mildred gave Gladys a smile. “She’s such a scallywag, she can wrap her dad ‘round her little finger, we loves her t’ bits. If you’s gonna stay around for a while, you’ll get t’ see her. She married Doctor Toby Russell in 1936 and had a son, Peter, in 1940.”
I could barely breathe now as I waited for her to tell us whether Peter had any children.
Mildred looked at me and smiled. “When those powers told me what they wanted, there weren’t a chance I’d be saying no, 'cause me family wouldn’t’ve been born. Theys tellin' me they had three jobs for me. The first one was t’ stop them twins gettin’ Mrs Humphries kicked out of her own home. You had t’ be stopped gettin’ them t’ do it … that’s how come you had t’ live that poor lady’s life. It were a sad time, but it were all good in the end.”
That shook me! “So, you’re saying if I hadn’t been put into Mrs Humphries’ body, everything that has happened since, wouldn’t have happened?”
“Yes, that's the gospel truth, none of it. If’n you’d got your way and the cottage had been pulled down for some fancy club, you’d not’ve saved Mrs Humphries; Alice wouldn’t have stood a chance, and Lady Ann an’ Peter would still be in the cesspit. Worst of all … and this were the important part, you wouldn’t have met James.” Mildred reached out and squeezed my hand.
My mind went back to that strange beginning. To think I might never have met Mildred or James … which also meant, no Ann and Michael! I closed my eyes and tried to shake the thought out of my head.
“Next, there were Joe, young Daveth’s dad. Oh Lordy, what a mess up that were. Our poor little Michael … still makes me shudder t’ think on it. That were even sadder … that little albino lad, bless his sweet heart. He’d a been dead if you hadn’t sorted it and look what the world would’ve missed out on with his scientific discovery.”
“My word, you two have been busy!” Gladys said looking from Mildred to me.
“Now we comes t' the last part. This one. We all know what we had t’ do here. And we’ve done it. Now that me grandchildren are safe, so is your future with James and the children.”
“My future? You never said if Peter had a child … he did, didn’t he?” I knew the answer before she said anything. I just wanted to hear it said aloud for me to get my head around it.
“Yes, he did.” She grinned. “I know, it’s right weird, isn’t it? I’s James’s great-great-grandmother. James were born in 1964. His mum ‘n dad were Doctors, Peter and Susan Russell.”
This most definitely would take a bit of getting used to. “You didn’t know any of this until now?”
“No. Them powers didn’t want me t’ have that on me mind when I agreed t’ help Mrs Humphries an’ you. I s’pose theys were right. It would’ve been hard t’ be me if I’d known. I might’ve put me four eggs in, an’ still changed the future. In the end I’s got the best of both our worlds.”
“Why did you have to die again, and come back years younger?” My head still wrestled to understand all this.
“I had t’ be the age I were when I met Tommy. Now we’ve done the jobs and everythin's good, I’s comin' back with you, and me life’ll carry on likes it were before.”
Gladys shook her head. Like me, she was finding it hard to understand. “What happens when the younger you dies in 1940? Will you start this all over again?”
I hadn’t thought of that. A bit like ground-hog day. I don’t think I’d fancy having to go through this again.
“No, this time’s different. Theys got this book what tells them if the timeline’s goin’ t’ be changed. It’s all good now we’s got that Venomous Asp sorted. I don’t even knows if I do still die when I’s forty, they didn't tell me.” She frowned, just for a split second.
“There has t’ be a reason, 'cause if I don’t...” She frowned again. “Yes, there’s got t’ be a reason. But I don’t know what it is. They did tell me I’s goin’ t’ be stayin’ as I am now, Nanny Mildred t’ Ann and Michael … only now I’s really their great-great-great-grandma.” She laughed, and Gladys and I joined in.
“When we goes back, Michael and Ann’ll never know the Mildred we’s leavin’ here. That didn’t happen now, I’s just Nanny Mildred, so I didn’t die.”
“But won’t that change the future? You were the younger Mildred for five years in my time. What about all those years?”
“No, nothin’ll happen. Think on it. What did I do that’d change anythin’ in that time?” She looked at me as I thought about it.
She was right. Nothing would change. Over the last five years, Mildred had more or less been a recluse. I’d not thought of that before. Now it all makes sense.
“Ann and Michael’ll only remember me this way. Even James. If anythin’, it’ll be me what has the problem. How’s I goin’ t’ tell James he’s me great-great-grandson?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll tell him together, that will be fun.” I grinned, thinking of how James would take this unexpected piece of news.
Mildred turned to Gladys, a look of sadness on her face. “We’s got t’ say goodbye, Gladys, 'cause it’s time for us t’ go. I’s glad I got t' know you.”
Before I could say another word, that familiar tingling flowed through me. We were going home.
It seemed an age since I’d last seen James and the children, yet to them, I’d been there all the time. Mildred was right, the fact that she was now back to being the old Nanny Mildred didn’t faze them at all. It really was as if the last five years had passed with her being her old self.
We sat down that night after the children had gone to bed, and Mildred began her story again for James. To say he was bewildered would be an understatement. First, he couldn’t remember that she had died and been resurrected as a young lady. Then, he was told that Mildred was his great-great-grandmother. If he didn't know us better, and have knowledge of our time-travelling pursuits, he would have had us locked away in padded cells. But being James, who had often helped us with his research, he decided he would look up these facts on the Internet.
It didn’t take him long to confirm everything Mildred had told him. She was definitely his grandmother a few generations removed, and her original history continued as it had before. She had died in 1940.
“I don’t rightly know what that makes me, then,” she said. “I feels real an’ alive. I’s solid, so I’s not a ghost. If I’s already dead … I can’t die again.…” She frowned, screwing her face up. “Could be them Powers haven’t done with us yet … I don’t remember if theys told me or not.”
I was equally puzzled. “Well, I think we should just forget that bit, and let life go on regardless. The future has never been open to us to explore, and really, do we want to know what’s in store for us?”
“You’s right. I’s goin’ t’ enjoy whatever time I’s got. I didn’t get t’ see me daughter’s son, but I can enjoy me great-great grandson’s children."
While on the computer, I asked James if he could find any information about what happened to Charles. I then had a fit of the giggles. “And do you realise the Venomous Asp was your father-in-law, Mildred?”
“I did, but I’s hoped you’d not be workin’ that nasty bit out. And that also means James is one of his grandsons!”
“Hey you two, come look at this.” James sounded so excited, we dashed over to see what he’d found on the internet. “I went back into the newspaper archives to see if I could find anything there … and look what I found.”
He moved aside so we could look at the screen. In large capital letters was the front-page heading:
VICE ADMIRAL SENT TO BETHLEM PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL
The Admiralty regrets to inform us that Vice Admiral Charles Pembrock has been detained in the Bethlem Psychiatric Hospital for his own, and bystanders', protection after many people witnessed him running down the road in his nightclothes, screaming obscenities, and waving a poker at some invisible demon.
When asked if he would like to comment about his father’s confinement, Doctor Tommy Pembrock began with a sad reference of his deceased mother, saying he was sure she would be watching over him….
By Sandra Stoner-Mitchell
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Hi everyone, I'm thrilled to be able to tell you all, This Time it's Personal, has now been published! My dream has finally come true, it took 72 years, but, hey! Who's counting??
This would never have happened had I not found and joined Fanstory. All you amazing people taught me so much and gave me so much encouragement to get this done. Without you, I would still be just dreaming.
When I first joined this site I believed I was a poet extraordinaire, everyone would flock to read my poems. After a few plain-speaking reviews I was brought down to the ground with a bump. I learnt fast that I was not. But I did improve with the help I received.
Then, I decided to try my hand at writing a book, something that had been my dream since forever. I posted my chapters and had the same reaction as I had with my poetry, ERRORS all over the place. But, you lovely people took me under your wings and taught me to write. Your encouragement and input is something I would never have got anywhere else. Three novels later I'm now a published author of a time-travel-trilogy. I still have loads to learn, and I still get picked up for my dreadful grammar, and most likely will until I put my pen down for the very last time in this world.
My advice to anyone starting out is to listen and make good use of all the help you can get on here, it's free, it's superb, and it's what will make you a much better writer.
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